The Fallen
by Shananigans10
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy have been a couple for years, trying to toe the line and stay alive during the hard times the war has brought to the Wizarding world. What happens when Voldemort finds out that they're together, and have been for quite some time? TW: Rape. Spy!Draco, Anti!Lucius, Anti!Death Eaters, Dark story. Rated M for violence, language, sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1

**I started posting this story a long time ago, but then I got super insecure about it and my beta was traveling and couldn't give me the support I needed at the time, then I started school and things have been hectic. I'm ready to start reposting it again (after some slight changes to the plot-line) so please let me know what you think about it! The chapter names are all based off of Avenged Sevenfold songs, but it isn't necessary to listen to the songs or anything while reading the chapters, I just really like them. Thanks to Nina for rocking, and to KomeKozzy425 for naming this for me (as usual)!**

 **Prologue**

 **Clairvoyant Disease**

 ** _"_** ** _Don't acknowledge right, just dwell on wrong. This spot in hell's where I belong. I've come so far, it's been so long. Don't know why it started or where it came from. But in my life, I wanted more, I needed more, I taste more."_**

 ** _–_** ** _Avenged Sevenfold, Clairvoyant Disease._**

July 13, 1996

"Show some respect," his father hissed up at him from a bowed position on the floor.

He was scared, confused, and incredibly repulsed by what was taking place in his life at that moment. He didn't need this. He didn't _want_ this. He tried to take a calming breath and still his shaking hands.

"You don't want to be marked, Mr. Malfoy? You don't believe in my cause?"

Draco didn't know what to say but he looking up through his fringe, he could see Voldemort fingering his wand with his long, pale fingers. His reddened, snake-like eyes were boring a hole in Draco, never moving away from his face.

"I broke your father out of prison mere weeks ago but he has yet to atone for his sins. He's offered you up to the cause, you see, in order to lessen his own punishment." Draco shuddered despite himself, a strange hollow feeling had started to spread in his stomach. "How loving," Voldemort added softly and mockingly, moving across the room slowly. His overlarge robes were whispering across the stone floor, causing the fine hairs on the back of Draco's neck to stand on end.

Everything seemed too loud to Draco, he could hear his father's ragged breathing as he got to his feet laboriously, his long, unkempt hair was straggly and uncared for, pieces had fallen over his face and were clinging to his two-day beard. He could hear his father's cane tapping the floor almost imperceptibly, probably itching to swing it at his son. Draco's hands were shaking slightly, despite his efforts to stop them, and he was ashamed that his father had led him into this trap without him even realizing what was going on.

"I want to speak to you in private, for a moment," he had said, leading Draco into the basement. The fact that they were going to the dungeons should have been his first clue.

"Bow to your master, Draco Malfoy," Voldemort said in a near whisper, watching the boy before him with a devious, frightening smirk on his face. "Bow to Lord Voldemort."

Draco was frozen with fear and wouldn't have been able to move an inch even if he had wanted to. Was he even breathing? It was hard to tell.

"I said bow," Voldemort yelled suddenly, his wand arcing through the air. Draco had no choice and felt his spine curving, forcing him to bow to the man in front of him. His wand felt slippery in his shaking hand as a cold sweat broke out. He didn't want this. He wasn't a killer and he didn't want to be punished for his father's sins and failures.

Voldemort eyed the wand in Draco's hand for a moment, a calculating look on his face before he turned to Lucius Malfoy and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Your father is going to show you what happens to those who disobey me," he said, and Lucius spun on the spot, pulling his wand from within the depths of his cane.

"Crucio."

Draco didn't even have time to consider his own wand before he distantly felt his knee crack on the stone floor, but the pain of that was nothing compared to the tremors rocking his body from the force behind his father's curse. Despite the pain he was in, the brutal, unadulterated pain causing his limbs to twitch and his muscles to seize, he didn't cry out. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

It wasn't as though he had never been crucioed by his father before.

The curse was lifted suddenly and Draco took in a huge, gasping breath of air as he lay supine on the cold dungeon floor. It took him a few moments before he shook out his extremities, trying to get the proper blood flow back into them while ignoring the tingling pain.

"Oh, and one other thing, which will surely help you realize how important it is to join us," Voldemort said coldly.

Draco looked up at the man from beneath his fringe as anger started to take hold of him. Now he was being blackmailed, on top of everything else? His anger was sudden and obvious, his grey eyes stormy and challenging, daring him to do his worst.

"Narcissa," was all the man said, and Draco felt the world turn on its axis for a split second. Lucius didn't seem surprised nor phased by the words the Dark Lord spoke and Draco felt a fury unlike anything he'd ever experienced before well up from deep inside him. Fury, but fear as well.

"What about her?" he asked in his deep, rumbling voice, the first words he'd spoken since entering the dungeon behind his father.

"Let's just say that things won't end up so well for your dear mother if you don't do as I ask. At this very moment she's not here, she's probably in a very compromising position, actually, and the men who have her are awaiting my command. If you continue to defy me, all I have to do is tell those men to bring her to me. You will watch, Draco Malfoy, as things so awful you have probably never even imagined them happen to your dear mother, and you will both die, slowly and painfully."

The air rushed from Draco's lungs as he dropped his head. His father's loud, cruel laughter was reverberating around the room. Lucius had never been a good father or husband, striking or hurting Narcissa if she tried to stop Draco's numerous punishments. He'd terrorized his wife and son ever since Draco could remember but he never ever expected it to get this far. He never expected for his father to allow Draco's and his mother's death if Draco didn't follow in his footsteps, to cast his wife and son aside as though they were nothing to him, nothing in the wake of the Dark Lord.

Hatred was the only thing that Draco could feel toward his father. He'd never loved the man, had been more afraid of him than anything. That was probably why he'd started the relationship he was in, out of spite – in the beginning, anyway. Once they'd spent a lot more time together Draco knew that he'd fight against his father for the witch at some point, especially considering the things that had been done to her in order to try and break her. There were things in the world that Draco didn't, couldn't condone and what they'd done to her was very high on that list. Draco had turned his back on everything he'd once believed in because of the actions of his father and his 'business associates' and now he was trapped in the one place he didn't want to be.

She was going to be extremely pissed off about his current circumstances, he knew – served him right for following his father down the stairs with blind trust. Draco had always harbored a small hope, though, that his father would find something to be proud of in him, no matter how much he would deny it if asked. Until now, that is. Now he would turn his back for good.

"Come here," Voldemort hissed. "Come here or I'll send word to my men."

Draco dropped his head and moved forward, feeling like a young boy again when he'd accidentally broken something or did something that inadvertently angered his father. He realized that if he didn't agree then his mother's life was forfeit along with his own; she was one of the few people he'd had in his life who actually loved him and the only one who had tried to protect him against his father's wrath. He would do the same for her, regardless of the circumstances. He flinched when he felt the cold, bony grip around his wrist and held in a gasp of pain as the branding spell started.

"Morsmordre," Voldemort hissed, the light being thrown from the spell burning into Draco's skin and lighting up the Dark Lord's eyes as well as Lucius', making them both look even more uncultured and crazed.

The pain was unbearable and Draco couldn't fight the groans escaping his lips after a few moments, even though he was trying to stifle them as he'd done while under the Cruciatus Curse. The cold sweat he had been feeling before intensified and his silver eyes were rolling in their sockets as he dipped to his knees, unable to hold up his own weight any longer.

The pain was overwhelming and Draco rolled to his side, pulling his knees up to his chin as he fought the tears that dampened his lashes; before any could fall, the pain stopped. Draco's groans, however, did not, and he rolled onto his knees and vomited on the floor between his hands, his left arm shaking roughly from the excruciating pain. Through the recesses of the dark fog overwhelming his being he thought he heard his father scoff in disappointment as Voldemort whispered a menacing "Welcome."

Before anything else could take place the darkness pressed in on him and Draco Malfoy knew no more


	2. Chapter 2

**TW: Rape, abuse, character death, talks of cannibalism, torture.**

 **I think that's all. I forgot to put them in with the prologue. Also, I would advise from here on out that you ensure you pay attention to the dates.**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Brompton Cocktail**

 **I'm not running away, been fighting this so long. Such a price that we pay, we got to be so strong. In a lie. I'm tired, induced euphoria. To help me move along. I want to meet my maker in peace, I want to feel alive again. So put that smile back on my face and mix it strong my friend. 'Cause I can't feel my face. I won't struggle long, in a world so cold, in a world so wrong.**

 **-Avenged Sevenfold, Brompton Cocktail**

 **November 23, 2004**

 **Eight years later.**

Hermione stood at the counter of Grimmauld Place staring into an almost empty cupboard and tapping her lip, deep in thought about how she could manage to make a decent meal out of their scarce food supply.

They needed to make their way into muggle London to replenish their extremely depleted stock but it didn't seem likely to happen anytime soon. Voldemort's followers had been out in droves for the past couple years, making it nearly impossible for them to leave the safe house. They could only do so on rare occasions and Hermione herself was absolutely not allowed to go anywhere.

The war was basically at a dead lock.

They had destroyed the remaining Horcruxes over the last few years with the help of the Order, but Voldemort kept himself hidden while his Death Eaters ran rampant through the country. There was no way for Harry to find and kill him and he knew if he was caught by any of the Death Eaters his life was forfeit.

Voldemort had sunk his claws into Hogwarts five years previously, his Death Eaters acting as professors to teach only the pureblood students how stupid and barbaric muggles were. Muggleborns were unwelcome there and had been all but been banned from the wizarding community of London for almost a decade. They were still around; the majority of them wanted to help Harry Potter, but they had managed to stay in hiding like Hermione did – she very rarely went outside for fear of being spotted.

She would be brutally murdered if anyone even had an inkling of who she was. Not really worth the risk of having full cupboards. She sighed and pulled down the few remaining tins of tuna, duplicating them, which made the food taste a little off, and putting a few more tins back into the cupboard before opening them and turning to the one remaining loaf of bread.

"Tuna sandwiches again?" Ron moaned from the large scrubbed oak table, grating on Hermione's nerves.

"If you have any ideas feel free to share, but until your mum or someone else shows up this is what we've got," she answered snarkily. It sounded almost as though he wanted her to go outside and buy more groceries. Yes, they could be purchased in muggle London, but Molly had mentioned seeing some dark-clothed figures hanging around while she shopped the last time they had seen her. While the members of the Order would of course disguise themselves, it still wasn't worth it for Hermione to be found. She was at much more risk than Ron, who was a pureblood.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone hunting for horcruxes instead of attending their final year of school, but after a year of searching they hadn't gotten any farther ahead of where they'd been when Dumbledore was alive. They gave it up as a bad job and returned to Grimmauld place, inviting the other members of the Order in so they could give them full disclosure of what they'd been up to over the year they'd been unreachable. Once they had more minds working on the riddle, they were able to figure them out fairly easily.

Ron consistently insisted that the concealed pieces of soul would be hidden in Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort himself was based, much to Hermione's consternation. She ignored him, trying to think of places they could actually be. She didn't want to talk about Malfoy Manor, because she knew that Ron wouldn't be able to handle the secret she was harbouring. He had been nursing a crush on her since their sixth year, and she was already dating someone else – Ron had missed his chance and Hermione was secretly glad. Living with him in a tent for a year confirmed her belief that she would never have been able to date him as a long term thing. He was constantly whining about things that neither she nor Harry had any chance of being able to fix and when he'd left them in a fit of jealous rage she knew she'd never be able to be with someone who was so absolutely selfish.

Harry, however, knew about Hermione's secret relationship dating back to their sixth year and never once turned away from her over it. He had questioned her sanity, of course, but once she'd explained how they'd managed to come together he'd been more than happy to welcome the other man into her life.

He'd helped to save her, after all.

Hermione was humming to herself under her breath while she mixed the tuna with green onions and mayonnaise, trying to keep a straight face and not grimace about the fact that she'd had tuna sandwiches for the last four lunches.

There was a loud crack of apparition in the kitchen and she shrieked and jumped, turning around with her hand pressed to her chest and her eyes alight with shock and fear.

"Draco," she gasped, abandoning the sandwiches and rushing forward. She dropped to her knees and reached out for him but he groaned and flinched away from her touch.

"Merlin, what happened?!" Harry snapped, stepping forward with his wand pointed at the man on the floor.

Draco Malfoy groaned again instead of speaking actual words. His nose was broken, judging by the two black eyes he was sporting. There was blood coating his face from his nostrils, flowing down his neck and he had a rather nasty cut under one eye and on the side of his head. His eyes were swollen and puffy and the bruises were so dark they looked more purple than anything.

Harry moved forward swiftly and joined Hermione on the floor at his side, reaching forward and ripping open Draco's cloak unceremoniously, the buttons popping away and shooting around the kitchen.

Hermione noted absently that one bounced off of Ron's cheek. He had stood from the kitchen table and was looking down at the injured man with a look of complete and utter shock and maybe a tad of uncertainty. Once he'd found out – three years after the fact – that Hermione and Draco had been dating since their sixth year he'd been hurt and a little bit embarrassed. He'd been trying to get Hermione to date him for years and she was, unbeknownst to him, already dating someone else. That was a bit mortifying.

It was even worse when Ron realized he really didn't hate Draco at all, after some time. It took a while but Ron slowly started to laugh at Draco's dry jokes, grimace at his snide remarks instead of losing it altogether, and share in some serious conversations about their past behaviours and completely different upbringings.

Not to mention the actions that had spurred Draco into joining the Order. He had never wanted to be a Death Eater – Ron believed that considering he was dating Hermione Granger, a muggleborn – but he also had never really considered joining the Order of the Phoenix, either. He made the hasty decision to join them in a fit of pure rage coupled by a side of serious mourning.

Poor bloke. It was a good thing he'd had Hermione there for him when that had all went down because Ron could only imagine how lost he would be in the same situation.

He approached his friends slowly, his wand loose in his hand as he looked in shock at the ruined face of the usually handsome man.

"They know," he croaked out, and Hermione's worst fears were confirmed. Voldemort knew that Draco was a traitor to his cause.

"How?" she asked, her hands covering her mouth in fear.

Draco coughed and flinched away at the same time.

"Let's heal him up first before we ask him twenty questions, Hermione," Harry admonished, carefully removing the cloak he'd ripped off of his friends' figure. Hermione was appalled that Harry could think she wasn't taking Draco's injuries seriously, but she turned and assisted Harry in removing his cloak, trying to ignore the pained grunts at even the slightest movement.

"I think I need to get Ginny," Harry said after they'd divested Draco of his shirt and trousers, with magic this time, and got a good look at the dark bruises that had blossomed on his chest and side, the nasty, oddly boot shaped one on his stomach, and the strange straight bruises littering his legs. Draco's ankle was badly swollen and purple and Hermione feared it was broken.

"Please hurry," Hermione answered quietly, her voice thick with the tears she was trying to keep trapped beneath her lashes. Draco, despite his pain, reached up and cupped her cheek gently, smearing the side of her face with his blood.

"It's worse than it looks," he told her in a whisper, causing her to roll her eyes and let out a reluctant sob.

"Don't talk," Ron said, turning as Harry's robes whipped out of the open door.

Ginny was the Order's healer. Harry had tried to keep her away from the battles in any way, but she continued to fight him on the fact and told him that she didn't necessarily want to fight, but she wanted to help in some way. She had, unbeknownst to them, been studying healing in any available free time. She was excellent at what she did.

Draco laid completely still on the stone floor for the few minutes that Harry was gone, staring at Hermione in a strange detached way that had her worrying much more with every second. A million questions were rushing through her mind, wondering why Draco was even alive if his treason had been brought to Voldemort's attention and why he was looking at her in such a way.

She reached down and took his hand, rubbing her thumb along it as she started to whisper soothing nonsensical things to him.

Harry and Ginny entered the kitchen loudly in their rush, the door slamming open so hard it smashed into the wall behind it. Ginny moved to Draco's side and Harry stayed back, Ron joining him after a couple seconds and informing him, in a low voice, that something seemed off. Harry agreed quietly, repeating Hermione's thoughts that if Voldemort knew Draco had been a turncoat he wouldn't have been left alive.

Ginny started snapping orders at Hermione, who obeyed instantly. She rushed to the potion cupboard at the side of the kitchen and started rummaging through it, pulling out the potions that Ginny was demanding.

"This isn't going to taste good," she warned Draco, who tried to give her a wry smile that came out as a grimace instead. "It's going to numb your pain so I can do the necessary spells, because they're going to hurt a hell of a lot more than the pain you're feeling right now, but I need to mend your ribs. Then I'm going to cast a spell to ensure none of your bone broke away, because if you have any floating in there… well it won't be good."

Draco shrugged, then winced, then whispered, "Just do what you need to do, Red."

Ginny cracked a tiny smile at her nickname, which she abhorred at first, and tipped the potion down Draco's throat.

Hermione approached Harry and Ron slowly, taking Harry's hand into her own clammy one. She wanted to make sure she stayed out of Ginny's way as she did what she needed to do, but she needed some sort of contact with someone – it helped keep her calmer than she would be otherwise. The three of them didn't speak a word, just watched in silence as Ginny lifted her wand and aimed it at Draco's, who seemed completely out of it, chest. They winced appropriately at the sound of his ribs cracking together and Hermione gripped Harry's hand tighter as small bone fragments ripped through his skin and were discarded beside Ginny's knees.

They watched as she healed the small cuts that were a product of the tiny pieces of bone being removed and Hermione covered her mouth as Ginny rebroke and then set his nose. Ginny was muttering to herself beneath her breath, but it was a mixture of strange healer jargon and random words that made no sense to anyone other than herself. The only time her words made sense was when she was predicting what each injury was caused by.

"Boot," she mumbled, catching the trio's attention as she healed the large purple bruise on his stomach. "Cane," she whispered as she healed the strange bruises on his legs. "Trip jinx," she guessed, reducing the swelling of his ankle. "Cruciatus," she mumbled, reaching for one of the potions Hermione had left at her side. She held Draco's head up as she poured another potion down his throat, muttering about muscle relaxants.

After at least half an hour Ginny sat back, looking completely drained but quite pleased with herself. She picked up one of the two remaining potions and tipped it down Draco's throat, negating the numbing potion she had given him first.

Draco coughed as awareness seeped back into his consciousness and was glad to note that his ribs weren't causing him any more debilitating pain.

"Thank you, Red," he said, sitting up quickly before he began to blink rapidly.

"One last potion," she said, handing him a small vial that was tinged red. "Blood replenishing."

Draco nodded and plucked the potion from her fingers, downing it in one go.

"Better?" Harry asked, giving Hermione's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Much," Draco answered, his silver eyes turning away from Harry and latching onto Hermione's. He lifted a hand and held it out to her and she didn't hesitate for a moment before dropping Harry's and taking Draco's, lowering herself onto the floor beside him. Draco lifted an arm and placed it around her shoulders, pulling her body into his in a one-armed hug.

Hermione snuggled into him for a moment before she accepted the cloth Ginny was holding out to her, wiping Draco's blood from her cheek carefully.

Once her face was clean she asked the room if they were hungry. She left Draco's side and approached the counter, her tuna sandwiches looking a little pathetic, but she pointed her wand at them to multiply them and carried a large platter of sandwiches to the table. She retrieved a water pitcher and filled it with water from her wand before carrying it to the table as well.

"Care to tell us what the hell happened?" Ron asked bluntly after a few minutes of silence.

Draco looked up from his glass of water and shared a rather significant look with Harry and Ron before turning to Hermione slowly.

"There's something you don't know," he said slowly, causing Hermione's heart to start pounding her chest. Draco didn't keep things from her. Ever.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

"We haven't been completely honest with you in the last few years, but I swear we did it to keep you safe."

Hermione didn't say anything at all, just looked between Draco, Harry, and Ron with hurt in her eyes. She hadn't kept a thing from them, other than Draco from Ron, for years and thought it was completely unfair that they'd do something like that to her. She decided to keep her mouth closed and her feelings to herself until she knew exactly what it was that was being kept from her.

"Voldemort wants you," Harry blurted out, his hand clenched by his plate.

"Wants me?" Hermione asked in surprise. That was the last thing she was expecting to hear.

"Wants your power," Draco clarified. "He's been interested in you for a very long time. Dolohov told him of the curse he'd cast on you in the department of mysteries and was stumped about how you'd managed to live through it. You shouldn't have, but somehow you did. And before that you were…" and then he stopped speaking. She knew what he was talking about and so did Harry and Ron but all eyes turned to Ginny, who was eating a sandwich and watching the conversation closely.

"What?" she asked, dropping her sandwich to her plate and narrowing her eyes at the four who had turned to look at her.

"Well, he just knows you're strong and also have a hard spirit to break."

"That shouldn't mean anything," Hermione argued. "I'm still a muggleborn and I'm sure I could have enough power to vanquish Voldemort and he'd still not be threatened."

Hermione hadn't missed Harry's almost imperceptible flinch. She turned questioning eyes to her oldest friend and waited for him to spill the beans.

"My dreams," he started, looking unsure of himself. "A few years ago I had a vision that Voldemort was in Germany and I noticed he was surrounded by seers. I couldn't figure out why and I couldn't understand anyone, since I don't speak German, so I didn't say anything about it for a while. A few months after that I had another vision. This time Voldemort was talking to Draco about a strange prophecy he had heard from the seers, a prophecy about a girl, not originally of this world, who had the brains and power to help the Chosen One bring down the Dark Lord, or vice versa."

"I panicked, of course, and as soon as I was able to I came straight here," Draco chimed in.

"I intercepted him before he could reach you, Hermione. I knew he'd be coming to warn you and most likely remove you from here and get you somewhere totally impenetrable, but I was being selfish and didn't want him to take you anywhere. You're one of my best friends and I didn't think he'd ever really believe that a mere muggleborn would be able to aid in his defeat."

"Then the Dark Lord remembered about you. He's been determined to get you ever since."

"Why wouldn't you tell me this?" she asked, completely confused. "It wouldn't have changed anything."

This time Draco shot a glowering look at both Ron and Harry in turn. It had clearly been their idea to keep it a secret and Draco obviously hadn't agreed wholeheartedly.

"Because it doesn't matter," Ron said vehemently, his anger surprised Hermione. "It won't make a difference; you're here helping us anyway so it wouldn't matter whether you knew or not."

"Don't lie to her, Ron," Draco said, sounding angry, "You didn't want her to know because you didn't want her to, for whatever reason, become a turncoat and sell you out."

"That's not true," Ron said, sounding equally angered. "I didn't want her to suddenly think that the only way she could be with you was to commit treason and turn to your side. What if she decided the only way she could be with you, truly be with you, was to go to Voldemort and join his side. You've done a lot in your career as a Death Eater, Malfoy, a lot of despicable things that would probably make poor Ginny's stomach turn, and maybe I figured Hermione would realize it wouldn't be so easy for you to be pardoned after Voldemort is killed."

Hermione felt chilled suddenly with the realization that not only was Ron right about Draco being pardoned, but that if it had come down to it she'd join Voldemort in a heartbeat to be with Draco. She met Ginny's eyes across the table and looked down quickly, feeling ashamed that she'd be able to turn her back on her friends in order to be with Draco.

Sometimes love was a bitch.

"Well regardless," Harry said, always the fair one. "That's why we didn't inform you, Hermione, and I'm sorry, you don't even know how sorry I am that I had to keep something like that quiet."

Hermione couldn't find the anger she probably should have been feeling toward her friends – they weren't completely wrong, anyway.

"Its fine," she answered briskly before turning back to Draco. "What does this have to do with you turning up here completely beaten?"

"Everything," he answered darkly, shooting Ginny another look.

"Go away," Ron said, turning to his sister.

"Pardon me?" she asked, her voice dropping an octave as her eyes turned hard.

"Go. Away."

"No, Ron," Hermione said quickly, ending any argument before it could begin. "We've kept Ginny in the dark for a long time. She should know the truth about some things..."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked in surprise. Hermione nodded and couldn't help but notice that both Ginny and Harry looked happy with the decision. She suddenly felt bad about placing the burden of keeping things a secret from Ginny on Harry's shoulders. Harry stood from his spot beside Draco and sat beside Ginny, taking her hand and holding it on the table.

"Can we hurry this along in case anyone shows up tonight?" Draco asked blandly. The Order was spread between six safe houses but sometimes they would randomly meet at Grimmauld Place for meals. It was never planned or pre-determined for the sake of staying random and unpredictable but that also meant the residents of the house could never be sure when people were going to show up. Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny had to hope it was soon though, as they were running out of food. Someone would bring them a new supply whenever they were able to visit.

"Tell us," Harry said, sounding a lot braver than he felt.

"Voldemort started to believe the rumours about two and a half years ago, which is when he started seriously looking for you. You were nowhere to be found, of course, because you've barely left the house, but he knew you were out there somewhere. We were all ordered to search for you and if we were to ever see you it was of utmost priority to take you to him immediately. Would you believe it was my father's tapestry hanging in the library that gave us away, Hermione? The Death Eaters barely ever stepped foot in there and its in the back corner – even I had forgotten about it, to be entirely truthful, but Bellatrix stumbled onto it earlier today, what she was doing in the library I'll never know."

"Tapestry?" Ginny asked in confusion.

"The brother of the tapestry that used to be hanging in the sitting room here," Harry said. "The Malfoys have their own tapestry depicting their family line, just as Sirius did."

"That tapestry has been missing for years though," Ginny pointed out.

"Yes," Harry said with a small incline of his head. "I finally figured out a way to remove it from the wall and did so because it was absolutely necessary in order to keep things quiet."

Hermione hadn't said a word. She was sitting ramrod straight with wide, glazed eyes, deep in thought about what exactly Draco was saying. Ron cleared his throat, looking scared – a fact that surprised Ginny greatly. She'd seen her brother in battle and had seen her brother in pain, but he never looked nearly as shocked and frightened as he did that moment.

"Why is this tapestry so important, then?" Ginny asked, genuinely confused.

Ron was about to explain but snapped his mouth shut when he saw the absolutely wrecked look on Hermione's face. She was almost as pale as Draco and her body was shaking slightly. He met Harry's gaze across the table and they both knew that nothing good was going happen in the near future.

"He knows," Hermione all but whispered, feeling cold and clammy.

"He does," Draco answered with a small incline of his head. "Which would explain why I was so thoroughly thrashed earlier. We were supposed to be searching for you… imagine Voldemort's anger upon finding out that I clearly knew where you have been all these years."

"How would he know that though?" Ginny asked, still feeling like she was missing something extremely important.

"When Bellatrix showed him the glowing line that led from my name to hers on the family tapestry he knew immediately. I didn't have a hope of getting out of there unscathed."

"Her name on your tapestry?" Ginny asked, her eyebrows almost raising beneath her fringe.

"Yes," Draco answered. "When Voldemort realized that Hermione Granger… well technically, Malfoy… was my wife, he was greatly displeased."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN- Please remember to watch the dates so you don't get too confused! Thanks to Nina for being the most amazing beta ever!**

 **Chapter Two**

 **And All Things Will End**

 ** _When I see you, I can read it in your eyes, fate misunderstood. But things are bound to change. Swallowed the lies, can't blame you for, thinking with your heart. Sometimes life is altered. Break from the ropes your hands are tied. Uneasy with confrontation. Won't turn out right. Can't turn out right._**

 ** _-Avenged Sevenfold, And All Things Will End._**

September 30, 1995

Draco was wandering through Hogsmeade on their first visit of his fifth year at Hogwarts. The students had been permitted to go to the village on the last weekend of the month in order to purchase anything they'd forgotten to bring to the school.

He had managed to lose Pansy somewhere near Honeydukes, ignoring her very obvious hints that she'd be delighted if Draco would accompany her to Madam Puddifoot's. As if he would ever set foot in that monstrosity of a coffee shop, whether for show or not.

He had nothing to buy so was basically just glancing into windows to see if there was anything of interest to purchase, something to waste his money on. He stopped outside of the Quidditch shop and eyed the new broom that was on display, but shook his head warily to himself and stepped away. He didn't need a new broom.

He glanced at the sky for a mere moment, looking to see if it was going to start raining anytime soon, when he saw a flash of black on the other side of the village. A few flashes of black, to be precise, and Draco thought they'd looked strangely familiar before narrowing his eyes and deciding to go check it out. He wasn't doing anything else, anyway, so it wouldn't be a waste of his time.

He headed in that direction slowly, lazily, taking his time because he had nothing but time to spare. Malfoy's didn't hurry anywhere, anyway. People were supposed to wait on them, according to his father. Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose when the thought of his father entered his mind. He had tried almost his entire life to appease the man and it didn't seem like anything Draco could do would make him happy and proud, make him want to call Draco his son instead of just having to because he was his offspring and heir.

He loved his father in his own strange way and craved his attention in way that was not healthy. Draco knew that. He'd spent his entire life looking for a moment where his father would look at him with a smile, a kind word, but it had never happened. In fact, whenever Lucius was forced to be in his son's or wife's company it was because they'd screwed something up and needed a firm reminder of the way they were to behave, act, and be perceived by others.

It was a feat to live up to, and Draco just couldn't do it. He knew his father was back in with the Dark Lord since the end of his previous school year and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was one thing to spew the words that had been drilled into his head since he was a child but it was a completely different situation to have to actually hate people of a different status, to have to want to kill them and eradicate them.

Draco was fairly sure he wasn't cut out to be like his father. To grovel to a man like a common beggar and even offer up his own home for the cause.

He was nearing the edge of the forest when the large clock in town square starting chiming the hour of four, jarring him from his troubled thoughts about what he was going to do with his life. He realized the time and was surprised that he'd been lost in thought, wandering from one edge of the village to the other for almost forty-five minutes. He almost turned away and started walking back to Hogwarts, a nice hot supper on his mind, but the black shapes took the sky again, almost startling him. He _did_ end up taking a few steps backward in surprise. They flew from the ground and took off in a whorl of black before picking up enough pace that they disappeared completely.

Draco was 99% certain they were Death Eaters. What they were doing in Hogsmeade, though, was completely lost on him.

He stood still and contemplated for a moment, wondering if he should even bother checking to see what exactly it was they were doing in there, but, being a teenage boy, the curiosity got the best of him and he ducked into the foliage.

It seemed a lot darker when he was in the surprisingly dense forest and he walked with sturdy steps to the area he thought he'd seen the Death Eaters emerge from. He couldn't see anything at all and he scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, his nose wrinkling slightly with the action. It didn't make any sense. They wouldn't have been there unless they had a specific purpose.

Draco continued walking, wondering if they had been farther away than he'd first realized when he'd been watching from his vantage point. He walked for five minutes and then stopped again, his ears pricked to listen for any sound whatsoever that wasn't rustling leaves.

And he heard a small whimper.

Draco spun to his right in surprise his eyes raking the forest, picking through the trees carefully, but he still didn't see anyone.

"Hello?" he asked quietly in his low baritone voice, not wishing to give himself up but dying to know what exactly the Death Eater's had been doing. "Is there anyone in here?"

"H-h-help me," he heard a pitiful voice whimper, causing his stomach to clench with anticipation.

He moved to his right again, watching the ground carefully so he didn't trip over any roots. That's when he saw the thin piece of wood that resembled a wand. He looked at it in confusion for a second before stooping to pick it up, inspecting it to see if he recognized it.

He didn't.

"Did you lose your wand?" he asked the seemingly empty forest.

Instead of a reply he heard a whimper again before a frantic scrambling from almost directly to his left ripped through the air, the whimpers turning into harsh sobs once he'd turned to face the person on the ground.

Hermione Granger was there on the ground, and while she'd been moving toward him at first she started and began trying to go in the other direction when she'd seen his face.

"Granger?" he asked in surprise, realizing in almost slow motion that she was barely wearing any clothes and he had never seen her looking so awful in his life.

"Get away, get away, get away," she groaned, struggling to move, but she was sitting on her bum and it was hindering her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, absolutely confused about what was happening. "I think you dropped your wand."

"Don't, don't," she moaned, lifting her left arm to cover her eyes, almost as though she could pretend he wasn't there if she couldn't see him. That's when he realized she was soaked in blood.

Draco reeled away from her for a moment, not believing what he was seeing. Granger burst into tears in front of him, dropping her arm from her eyes and wrapping it around her almost naked body in a defensive move.

"Merlin, Granger! What happened?!"

Draco took a few steps toward her, intent on helping her, covering her up, cleaning her up… something, but after he took only a couple hurried steps she turned away from him and vomited into the dirt. Draco stopped again, unsure how to proceed. She obviously needed help but she didn't seem too keen on allowing him to get too close to her.

He took a steadying breath and lowered himself to his knees, like he would with a child, and put the wands in his pocket so he could hold his hands out in a supplicating gesture.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, and for the first time Granger quietened down a little bit. "I won't hurt you, Granger."

She sniffled and looked down at her arm, covering it with a hand before he could see what was there, almost as though she was ashamed. She kept her lashes lowered and didn't meet his gaze for a few minutes, but her sobs were getting quieter and more controlled and she seemed to be running out of steam.

"Would you like to borrow my cloak?" Draco asked her, feeling like a complete moron. The sky was darkening and it was getting chilly outside; he had been watching the girl shiver uncontrollably for the past ten minutes.

Hermione didn't say anything, but she lifted her head and stared at him as though she had never seen him before.

"I'm bloody," she pointed out unnecessarily in a low, hoarse voice.

"I see that," he answered, trying to keep his voice light so he didn't frighten her further. "I could clean you up before taking you back to the castle."

Granger hitched in a breath. "I can't go to the castle," she said, her voice wobbling slightly. He was glad she didn't start crying again.

"Well, Granger, you're going to have to go back at some point, since that's where we live for ten months of the year."

"No one can see me like this," she all but whispered, panic lighting up her eyes.

The blood from whatever happened to her arm was dripping through her fingers that were clenched over it and Draco couldn't help but to stare at the crimson fluid that was falling to the ground in a continuous pattern. It looked very much like his own, he noted.

He shuffled forward a bit very slowly, glad that she hadn't scurried away from him in apparent fear.

"What happened?" he asked again, unwilling to look at her body too thoroughly. He felt sick to his stomach from looking at the rapidly swelling bruise on her cheek and noticed that she had some cuts littering her cheek and neck on the right side. He didn't even want to look any lower than her face, if he was being completely honest with himself.

Granger let out one derisive sob before catching the others in her throat and clamping her cut lips shut. She met his eyes almost defiantly this time, her left hand scrabbling up her chest and clamping the tattered pieces of robe closed as tightly as she could. She slowly moved her legs so that they were straightened out in front of her, her knees pressed together tightly. Her arms quivered and her breaths were shallow.

"I just want to help."

"Why would you want to help me?" she asked harshly, her voice still ragged with pain and fear. "Why would you want to help me after your… your… just why?"

Draco was confused a moment as he watched her battle with herself. She needed help, that much was clear, but she also didn't trust Draco at all, not that he blamed her. He had given her very little reason to think of him as anything other than a spoiled, bigoted wanker, but he did have another side, a side that no one knew much about because it wasn't safe to speak of. He was a confused boy, plain and simple.

Draco sat back on his haunches and looked at the girl closer. He had already inspected her face but he had yet to see her arm, as she was doing a surprisingly good job keeping it covered. He knew her robes were torn but it hadn't caught his attention that she wasn't holding a set of robes around her form at all – it was more like a strip of material that had been ripped from something. There were no sleeves on it and she seemed to have wrapped it around her body in the hopes of keeping herself covered, nothing more – she certainly wasn't getting any warmth out of it. He realized, now that her legs were straightened and he was allowing himself to actually look, that she wasn't wearing her school issued skirt or the muggle jeans she usually wore on weekends. She had nothing on her lower half at all and was trying in vain to make sure the strip of cloth kept her covered.

Her legs were shaking and bloody, especially her upper thighs, and Draco could distinctly make out finger marks that had either wiped the blood away, or had been on her thighs when the blood was flowing. There was a nasty looking burn on her calf and little bruises littered on the area of skin he could see that was her hipbone – they also looked strangely like fingerprints.

"Christ, Granger," he yelped, turning away from his assessment and letting the sickness take a hold of him. He could be embarrassed about vomiting later. He planted his hands firmly on the ground and dropped his head, letting loose right there in front of the poor girl. At least he'd been tasteful enough to turn away.

She didn't acknowledge his words.

"You were… raped," he said, swallowing harshly as he turned back to her, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. There plenty of things that Draco wouldn't, couldn't, stand for, and rape was definitely on that list. Depraved souls were the only ones low enough to do such a thing to a woman, an innocent.

Hermione sniffed and hung her head, but she didn't confirm nor deny his words.

They sat in a silence for a few moments, the sky darkening around them as Granger's shaking increased.

"Please just let me help you so we can get the bloody hell out of here. It's freezing and you have no clothes. If you don't want me to help clean you up then I will just lend you my cloak so we can get up to the school and to Madam Pomfrey."

Hermione didn't answer again and Draco reached his breaking point. He got to his feet in a fluid motion and stalked forward, not letting it bother him that she cowered away and her eyes lit up with fear as he reached down and pulled her to her feet. He was careful not to jar her or grip her too hard, but Merlin it was getting ridiculous just sitting there in the cold air, waiting for who knew what.

She whimpered as he ripped the thin piece of material – the bottom of her robe, it looked like – from her and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. He couldn't help but notice the blood on her thighs again, but he averted his gaze and forced her arms through the sleeves of his warm cloak, seeing her left arm for the first time. The word 'Mudblood' was carved into crudely, obviously with a knife and not a wand, and Draco almost gagged upon seeing it. Instead of allowing his body to do what it desperately wanted to, he focused on getting Hermione into his cloak, buttoning up the front smartly before giving her a once over. She was clinging to his arm tightly, her legs shaking as she tried to keep herself upright.

What the hell had that depraved soul done to the poor girl?

"It's a long walk," he said, unnecessarily, noting the fear in her eyes as he removed the wands from the pocket of his cloak, transferring them to the pocket of his trousers, instead.

She nodded and tried to straighten her spine but no matter how she stood she still looked utterly defeated.

"You can lean on me, Granger," he said nicely. "I've got you, okay?"

Hermione nodded again, taking him up on his offer and gripping his arm tightly as he led her through the forest.

"It's probably around dinner time so no one should be out here still," he said, rambling along for his sake as well as hers. "I'm thinking that we should probably stick to the back streets, though. I don't want someone to see us and be all over you with questions. I also don't exactly what to get blamed for this, so if anyone at the castle asks you please make sure you inform them I'm just trying to help. I know what you and your friends think of me and I know it is for a good reason, but I'm really just trying to help you, okay Granger? Come on, now, the path is just over here. I followed it in when I saw something strange in the sky, and good thing too, wouldn't you say?"

Draco looked down at the girl who was gripping his arm with surprising strength, and she was gazing up at him as though hanging on to his every word. She tripped over a root with her bare foot, scraping it along the wood in a way that looked to Draco to be painful, but she didn't even seem to notice the new pain amidst the injuries she had already sustained.

She stumbled hard, though, and gripped onto him even harder. They were moving at a snail's pace and Draco had the distinct feeling that they wouldn't make it to the castle before dawn. He stopped and looked down at her again, wondering if he was about to cross some sort of line.

"Okay, Granger, I think from here on out I should carry you," her eyes widened but he pushed on. "I don't want to be stuck out here for hours on end and I really think it's imperative that you see the nurse as soon as possible, so I'm just going to pick you up and carry you right on up to the castle. If we get there soon everyone will still be at dinner and no one will even see us enter the castle, okay?"

Even though he posed it as a question he didn't wait for her answer and he bent down and lifted her weight easily with one arm below her shaking knees and the other around her back. She was tense for the first few minutes of the journey and then relaxed into him, her head dipping down to rest on his shoulder.

"I don't want Harry or Ron to see me like this," she said after a few more minutes, her voice surprisingly even. "They'll flip out."

"I'm sure you can ask Pomfrey to keep them out of the room until you've been healed."

"I don't want to be alone with her," she replied, her voice thick with tears again.

Draco wanted to sigh but held it in. "I'll stay with you, if you feel it's imperative."

"I don't want to put that on you but I don't know if I can do it alone." Her sobbing began to get louder again and Draco shushed her quickly, entering the gates and coming to the conclusion that the castle had never seemed so far away before.

"Look, there's the castle. We're almost there and then you can get fixed right up and we can put this whole mess behind us," he started, back in rambling mode. Hermione's head was back on his shoulder again, her tears soaking through the thin shirt he was wearing. He glanced down and realized that she was passing out and fear spiked through his chest for a moment. Had she lost too much blood? Were her internal injuries too horrific to help her hold onto life for a second longer?

"Open up those beautiful brown eyes, Granger, and tell me how far you think we are from the castle."

Hermione's eyes cracked open she gazed toward the castle but didn't give him a number.

"How about the sky, do you see any stars up there?"

Hermione slowly turned her eyes to the sky, but even though the sun was almost completely set, there were no stars yet.

"No," she whispered, her breath puffing out onto his neck, causing him to shiver slightly.

"None at all?"

"No."

"How close do you think we are to the castle now?" he asked, glad that he was about halfway. His arms were aching like they never had before but he couldn't put her down now, they were so close to safety. He was so close to answers.

"Almost there," she said with great effort.

"That's right. We're almost there. I have to wonder though, Granger, why didn't your two friends notice that you were missing? It seems they went right back to the castle without you."

"I left," she said, her voice a mere whisper. "Was going to… study."

"What were you studying?"

Hermione didn't answer him immediately and fear caused his stomach to clench tighter than it had before he'd found her.

"Stay awake, Hermione." Her eyes snapped open upon hearing her given name fall from her lips – a tactic he was hoping would work. "Don't forget that I need you to tell everyone I didn't do this to you. If you're sleeping you won't be able to keep me safe."

Hermione let out another puff of air and Draco wrapped her up a little tighter.

"Here we go. I have to climb the stairs now, Hermione, so hold on, okay?" he felt her arm tighten around his shoulder and smiled down at her, trying to keep her calm. "Once we climb the stairs I'm going directly to the hospital wing, okay? Be prepared for Madam Pomfrey."

He felt her nod. He took a steadying breath and managed to grip the handle of the door and open it just enough to stick his foot into. He all but kicked it open and scurried through before it could slam on his back, rushing quickly across the entrance hall so he could get into the corridor that led to the hospital wing without being seen.

He sighed in relief when he saw the doors to the Great Hall were still closed, which meant supper was still in progress and no one would be roaming the halls.

"Almost there, Hermione," he said gently. "Remember what I said about having my back?"

She nodded against his shoulder again and he let out a breath before kicking the door to the hospital wing a few times, hoping Madam Pomfrey would get the hint and come open it.

She did. With a horrified gasp Draco was ushered into the open space and led to the far end of the room nearest the Healers office and the older woman gestured to a bed. Draco approached it carefully and lowered Hermione onto it gently, not wanting to cause her anymore pain than she was already in.

He went to withdraw his arms and Hermione clasped onto the one that had been behind her back, hanging on for dear life.

"Were in the hospital wing, Hermione," he said gently. "It's okay to let go now because Madam Pomfrey is going to heal you up nice and quick."

Hermione didn't let up her grip even a fraction, holding onto his arm so tightly that Draco was beginning to lose feeling in his hand. She was crying again, he noticed faintly, almost silently but big, fat tears were leaking from her eyes, which were closed tightly.

"No, no, no," she whispered. "Don't leave me, don't, don't."

"I'm not going to leave you, Hermione, I'm just going to move away a little bit so Madam Pomfrey can access you and heal you, okay?"

"I don't want you to," she said, opening her eyes. Draco could see the intense fear radiating from them and nodded to her, letting out a faint breath.

"I can work around you for now, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey said. She'd been watching the situation unwind with immense curiosity, but it seemed plain that Miss. Granger wasn't in the state to let Mr. Malfoy go anywhere at the moment. She had summoned the headmaster while the two students were situating themselves on the bed, so while she was waiting she drew the curtains around the hospital cot closed and approached them warily.

"I'm going to have to remove the cloak, Miss. Granger," Madam Pomfrey said in her best placating tone.

It didn't seem to matter what tone she used, because the second the words were out of her mouth the girl began sobbing harshly, her fingers digging into Draco's arm tightly.

"Please don't," she whimpered, her eyes clenched shut again.

"I need to so I can assess the situation, Miss. Granger. I need to be able to see what needs healing before I can start."

Hermione was quickly entering full-on panic mode again so Draco looked down at the terrified girl, trying to distract her.

"If you want me to leave so the Healer can assess you I can, Hermione. I'll be right outside the curtains, okay? I'm not going anywhere but outside the curtains, so don't panic."

"No," she snarled, opening her eyes again and glaring at him. "I told you that you couldn't leave me here!"

"But… she needs to remove the cloak," Draco said, feeling his face start to flame suddenly. It was one thing to not look when he had just discovered her, but now that they were in the confines of a hospital room, on a bed, he wasn't sure he would be able to keep his eyes averted. He couldn't help but feel like a disgusting letch in that moment, thinking that way when the poor girl had just been attacked and he was the only thing keeping her latched onto reality.

"I don't care," the Gryffindor said stubbornly. "You promised to stay with me. Just… just don't look." Her voice cracked and her lip started to tremble, her chin quivering as tears filled her eyes again.

"I won't look, Hermione, I promise."

And he didn't.

Pomfrey pointed to a chair and Draco sat in it carefully, removing the extra wand from his pocket and placing it on the bedside table before he focused his attention on Hermione's face. It was a whirlwind from there. Pomfrey got the cloak off of her and threw it on a chair. She was unable to hide the surprise in her eyes when she realized the girl was naked, and she was unable to stifle her outrage when she realized what had happened to Hermione.

Draco sat amidst the panic, holding Hermione's hand tightly in his own and watching her face closely just to prove that he wasn't disgusting, he wasn't like the person who had done those perverse things to her. She stared right back.

Dumbledore arrived after a while, talking to them through the curtain so as to respect the girls' privacy. He was clearly shocked beyond all recognition that Draco Malfoy was inside with Hermione Granger, keeping her calm and awake while Madam Pomfrey did what she had to do. Draco explained how he'd found her in the forest, not taking his eyes off her face for a moment. He watched as the cuts there slowly disappeared and only showed faint lines that would be gone by morning. He was fascinated when the bruising around her eye went down, the burst capillaries on the whites of her eye fading away to be replaced with the regular hue.

Dumbledore waited until Madam Pomfrey was finished and Hermione was completely tucked into her bed, Draco still sitting at her side with his hand in hers, before he entered the makeshift room and pulled up a chair.

"I need to know who did this to you, Miss. Granger."

Draco didn't realize that his entire life was going to crash down around him with the name she spoke.

She looked at Draco in complete and utter fear for a moment, and that should have been his first hint, but he figured she was just scared in general, not scared of his reaction.

"There were three of them, Sir, but I only know the name of one."

"Whose name is that, Miss. Granger?"

Hermione gave him another fleeting look, her hand spastically tightening around his for a moment before she looked away to their Headmaster. Draco raised his eyebrows in confusion and watched her face closely.

"Lucius Malfoy."

November 23, 2004

Ginny was absolutely flabbergasted. She looked as though she'd taken something heavy to the temple and her jaw was unhinged as she stared at Hermione like she'd never met her before. It took her a few moments to realize that neither Ron nor Harry seemed surprised at the information, and surmised correctly that they had known about it all along.

"Married?" she finally stuttered out, meeting everyone's eyes. "For how long?"

"Just coming up on our three-year anniversary, actually," Draco answered lazily.

Ginny's eyes, if possible, widened even more.

"Three years?" she asked in a hollow tone. "You've all kept this from me for three bloody years?"

"We had to, Ginny," Hermione answered slowly, weighing her words. "We couldn't have anyone know for the sake of our lives. Draco was a part of the Order but mistrusted by everyone here and I don't think people would have handled it well if they were informed that we had been together since our sixth year at school. You remember the way Seamus Finnegan acted when he learned we were dating after Draco had already been a part of the Order for a year? It would have been that but a thousand fold. We also could not risk Voldemort knowing under any circumstances, I would never risk his life like that, and that's not to say we don't trust you but word spreads in these damn safe houses faster than it should."

"He knows now though," Harry pointed out, looking awkward and uncomfortable about Ginny being in on the secret. She'd know how long he had been lying to her now and it didn't sit well with him. He wouldn't be surprised if she didn't speak to him for a week.

"Oh yes, back to that. I'd like to get this out there before anyone arrives anyway… it'll be less of a fight." Draco glanced at Ron quickly with his words, knowing the lanky man was going to be furious with what he had to say next. He turned to his wife and grasped her hands tightly in his own, meeting her dark eyes bravely.

"You need to come back to the Manor with me."

"What?" Bellowed Ron, predictably. "That's a bloody death sentence, Draco! What the hell are you playing at?"

"Let's hear him out, Ron," Harry said calmly, waiting for Draco to continue as he gripped Ginny's hand tightly.

"It's not a bloody death sentence," Draco snapped, turning to the others. "Have you somehow forgotten about the fact that Voldemort _wants_ Hermione in the last five seconds or are you just being deliberately obtuse? Obviously I would never lead my wife, whom I care for and love beyond anything else, directly into the line of fire you bloody idiot."

"Not to mention the Vow," Harry added in.

Ron's face reddened immediately but before he could snap back Hermione stood up. "Stop it, both of you. Why do I need to go to the Manor, Draco?"

Draco looked away from Hermione for a moment, running his hand through his hair roughly before turning back to her.

"He has your parents."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

 **This Means War**

 ** _Walk the razor's edge, cut into the madness. Question all you trust, buy into the fear. I see the man ripping at my soul now. I, I know the man, I know him all too well_**

 ** _-Avenged Sevenfold – This Means War_**

September 30, 1995

"Lucius Malfoy," she said, her sad eyes flicking up and meeting his for a fleeting moment.

Draco stared at her for a full 30 seconds, not understanding how she'd managed to confuse his father for someone else. He had no love for the man but he also knew that his father wasn't depraved enough to rape a young girl of sixteen.

He could hear Dumbledore speaking to Hermione, his deep voice rumbling in the background of Draco's thoughts but he ignored it and stood from the bed quickly, dropping Hermione's hand in the process.

He felt detached from reality and faintly heard her name fall from her lips as his feet led him away from her hospital bed, automatically it seemed. He heard her apologize, but he kept going. There was a strange buzzing in his ears and his blood was pounding through his veins loudly, his carotid artery thumping hard as it forced the blood toward his heart.

She was lying, obviously, or just completely confused. There was no way that his father had been the one in Hogsmeade that day, it just didn't make sense. He would have known that he was planning on visiting, maybe would have sent Draco a letter and asked him to meet him somewhere.

Draco snorted aloud at the thought. His father had never kept him informed of anything he was doing and it would be a cold day in hell before he decided to invite Draco for a day of shopping or to share lunch. Draco didn't see him unless he was home from school during holidays and that was really fine, but for a girl to accuse his father of rape? That was a whole different story and Draco would deny it vehemently until the day he died.

He stomped through the halls and back through the entrance hall he'd carried the broken girl through only an hour before, his hands shaking and his breathing rough. Draco heard his name but continued on as though he'd heard nothing, slamming through the doors and entering the blessedly cold air before continuing on toward the lake. There were benches scattered around it and he needed to sit down. Needed to think.

He couldn't help but recall the look on Granger's face when she'd realized it was Draco who had found her. Fear.

She'd been moving toward him, someone who would be able to help her, but when he'd turned and she recognized who it was in front of her she had attempted to scramble away from him. He could recall her face, contorted in fear, her eyes alight with panic.

Why would she have acted in such a way if it wasn't because it was his own father who had attacked her?

Draco didn't have to reach far for an answer to that question. Because she hated him, of course. She wouldn't have wanted anyone to see her in such a state and the fact that a boy she'd hated since she was 12 years old had found her wouldn't have sat well.

But that didn't seem right, either. Sure, she didn't like him, but that didn't explain the horror on her face or the anxiety in her eyes – the utter terror at who had stumbled across her.

Maybe the rapist was _Polyjuiced_ to look like his father. Plenty of people hated the Malfoys, and it would be a sure way to disgrace the family name. On the other hand, how would the culprit have been able to acquire Lucius Malfoy's hair for the potion? Draco knew exactly how meticulous his father was with such things, paranoid of just such an occurrence.

Draco dropped his head into his hands a took a few steadying breaths, unsure what to believe. He didn't want to face the possibility that he had a rapist for a father, a rapist's blood running through his veins. Then he realized he had been around the girl for ten months of his life a year for the last 4 years, and he knew for a fact that she wasn't a liar. She was too damn _good_ to be a liar.

He took a breath, disgusted with his life and the implications about what it was going to become if Granger was indeed telling the truth. Dumbledore knew about it, so it was a safe assumption that he would be taking the necessary precautions to throw his old man in jail. Not that he would deserve any less if he was actually the person who had raped her.

Draco remembered suddenly something that Pansy had said to him over the summer holidays. They were sitting in the garden enjoying tea with his mother and when she'd left to check on the state of their lunch Pansy had leaned in toward him, her voice low and her eyes fleeting, almost like she didn't want to look at him.

"Don't repeat this, Draco, you hear me? I think you should know though, because it was… wrong."

"What is it?" Draco had asked, surprised to hear the quiver in Pansy's voice. He'd known her since he was a toddler and they were close friends, and supposedly about to be betrothed to be married – not that either of them really wanted that to happen. They weren't meant for each other and they both knew it. Pansy tried to keep the farce up that they were together, especially at school, but Draco himself knew that she had her own little boyfriend from a different school house. She wouldn't tell him who, but he knew there was someone who had caught her fancy. He just prayed it wasn't Harry Potter.

"I was in the hallway earlier talking to your grandfather Abraxas' portrait. He was telling me some dreadful story about his Dragon Pox, like I care, but I heard footsteps behind me and I knew it was your father almost immediately because of that damn cane he carries."

Pansy stopped and swallowed hard, her eyes skipping away from his again. Draco didn't say a word, just waited for her to continue with her story. She seemed to be questioning herself over whether she should say anything at all, but she swallowed again and dived into it.

"I turned around and he was just standing there a few feet from me, watching me. Watching me closely, Draco. I said goodbye to your grandfather and went to make my leave, but I heard him whisper something to himself, almost as though he wanted me to hear it too, though. He said, "so delectable," and when I turned around he was staring hard at my arse, Draco. Then his eyes skipped up to my breasts and I just…"

Pansy stopped talking and turned her body away from his for a moment, almost as though she was embarrassed and ashamed, which was a ridiculous thought.

"I thought you should know," she added as an afterthought, and Draco was surprised to hear her voice break.

"Did he do anything else?" Draco asked despite himself, because he couldn't believe that Pansy was about to cry in front of him. She was the strongest person their age Draco knew and she'd never cried in front of him, not once.

"No," she answered, and she sounded truly miserable. "But I felt threatened, Draco. I felt… dirty from the way he was staring at me."

Draco watched in shock as a tear slipped from Pansy's eye.

His mother joined them at the table then, noticing Pansy's tearful gaze. She immediately began asking the girl what was wrong, but Pansy made her excuses and fled the table.

Draco hadn't seen her for two weeks after that incident.

He took a deep breath again upon remembering that. He was surprised by it but thought that even though Pansy would never lie to him, had never done it before, she had misunderstood something in the situation. Narcissa had commented about how the girl was 'growing into herself' as she walked away, her skirt swinging around her thin, shapely legs, and Draco couldn't help to agree.

Apparently his father had noticed as well.

So Lucius Malfoy had made Pansy feel uncomfortable enough to cry and not come back to his home once during the previous summer vacation, and now Hermione Granger had been raped and beaten to a pulp and was placing the blame on him as well.

Could it be?

Draco was frustrated, he didn't want to believe but he also could see the possibility.

"What's happened?" a voice asked from his left, causing him to jump violently and whip out his wand.

Pansy held her hands up in a supplicating gesture and Draco dropped his wand with a sigh.

"Draco," she said sharply, her eyes wide. "Why do you have so much blood on your robes?! Are you hurt?"

Draco shook his head no but offered no explanation. Pansy raised an eyebrow and flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder before taking a seat beside him on the bench and folding her hands into her lap. They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Did my father touch you this summer?" Draco asked suddenly, causing Pansy to turn to him in bewilderment.

"What?" she asked calmly, but Draco could see the truth flash behind her eyes.

"He did, didn't he?"

"Draco, I told you what happened already."

"Don't lie to me, Pansy; you never have before and I really don't appreciate it," Draco snapped. He was tired and angry and just wanted to know the damn truth. "Did my father touch you?"

Pansy looked like a trapped animal for a moment before she puffed out a breath.

"It wasn't anything major," she said, looking ashamed again. "He touched my breast for a moment before I turned away and ran."

It looked like admitting the truth had taken a lot out of her and Draco felt his world spinning around him dangerously, the world tipping out of focus.

He wanted to cry but would never actually allow himself to do it. It seemed to him that maybe Hermione Granger had been telling the truth, and Draco didn't want to believe it so easily – it was his father, for Merlin sake – but at the same time it just rang true.

"What's happened?" Pansy asked again, her voice low.

So Draco explained everything, how he had been thinking for a long time about his role in life, about how he wasn't sure he'd be able to follow in his fathers' footsteps and was adamant about the fact that he didn't even want to. He told her about what had happened in Hogsmeade that day, and Pansy seemed suspiciously concerned about Granger's well-being for a moment, but Draco pushed it aside before he told her about how Granger had pointed the finger at his father.

"Is it true, Pansy?" Draco asked, his voice sounding almost desperate.

Pansy took a deep breath in through her nose and turned away for a moment, weighing her words. She couldn't lie to him, she wouldn't.

"I think it probably is, Draco. I know that's hard for you to hear since you've always wanted to please the man, but what he's done is… it's awful, no matter who it happened to. What could Hermione Granger possibly have done to deserve such a thing? Befriend Harry Potter? Big deal. Be born into a family that she literally had no control over? Who cares."

"Pansy… are you saying you don't believe in the Dark Lord's reign, either?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," she answered stiffly. "I swear to Merlin if this conversation gets to anyone other than the two of us I'll never speak to you again."

Draco barked out a small, mirthless laugh. "Are you joking? If anyone heard any of the things I've said over the last hour I'd be strung up by my balls in the common room. This is still a game that we have to play properly, Pansy, regardless of what we feel."

She sighed. "I know."

"I don't know what to do," Draco admitted after a few quiet minutes, he was exhausted but also felt like he should at least check in on Hermione. She was probably hurt that he'd left the way he had.

"Go check on her quick, I'll make your excuses," Pansy told him, her eyes twinkling strangely at him as the moon reflected back at her.

They separated ways in the main entrance, Pansy descending the stairs that led to the dungeons as Draco skirted through the corridors that would take him to the hospital wing, his hood pulled up over his hair. He opened the door slowly to see that the room was empty but for Hermione's bed at the end where he'd placed her.

He approached slowly and entered the curtains silently, not wanting to wake her up.

He was surprised to find himself at the end of a wand as the curtain fluttered shut behind him. Hermione's eyes were wild and frightened, her hair in more disarray than he had ever seen before, and she had a hospital gown wrapped about her body tightly.

Draco ripped back his hood quickly before she had a chance to hex him.

"It's just me," he whispered, watching her eyes calm slightly as she avoided looking at his hair and focused on his face instead. Everyone always said that Draco was a spitting image of Lucius, but he himself disagreed. He looked a lot more like his mother – the only thing he really had in common with his father was his hair colour and his height. His mother's was blonde as well but not as platinum, it had more honey colour running through it in streaks, but other than that he had his mother's gray eyes – his fathers were blue – and her sharp features.

"Draco," she whispered, the tears welling up in her eyes again. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop," he said softly, holding his hand up so she'd halt her words. "Don't apologize to me. I should be telling you how sorry I am, so sorry that my father could do something like that to someone."

Hermione was silent and settled back in her bed slowly. She looked exhausted and Draco had to wonder why the healer hadn't given her a sleeping potion.

"I refused it," she answered upon his asking. "She left it with me to take if I felt the need."

"Why would you refuse it?" he asked, confused. He'd take it no question if someone had given him one. He'd had a long day. An awful day.

"I don't want to be sleeping too deeply," she answered quietly, and Draco realized she was scared of her attacker – his father – coming back.

"You're safe here," he answered, looking at her closely.

"I don't want it," she snarled, pushing it further away across her nightstand. "I won't allow myself to be vulnerable."

Draco had a million questions to ask her, how she'd managed to get into the forest and why she was there alone? Who were the other men with his father? He swallowed them and watched her fight off the sleep that was trying to take her. He'd wait until another time to ask, if he ever had the chance.

"I have to go," he said quietly after a few minutes. "Everyone will be wondering where I am and where the hell I've been all day. I just want you to know that if you need to talk to me about anything, Granger, I'll be around. Don't make it obvious, of course, but…" he paused for so long she thought he'd finished speaking, then murmured, "I'm really sorry."

Hermione sniffled into her pillow, tears falling thick from her long, dark lashes. Draco had the sudden urge to touch her, but resisted. He didn't think she'd appreciate it, especially given how torn she was probably feeling about his involvement.

"I'll tell you how I feel about my father one day," he said quietly before turning away from her. He muttered another apology before slipping through the curtain and walking away quietly, sneaking back down to the dungeons.

November 30, 2004

"My parents?" Hermione asked, her eyes dimming for a moment. "But they… they won't understand. I _obliviated_ them! Years ago, Draco. What is he hoping to gain by taking them?"

"You," Draco answered simply, reaching out to touch her anywhere he possibly could.

Hermione had _obliviated_ her parents 8 years previously and knew that there was no way to take it back, now. It had been far too long, they'd have an established life and she wouldn't feel right taking it back from them, if she even could without the risk of causing brain damage. An _obliviation_ of up to a year could be lifted with intense spell work, but any added time after that made it less and less likely to be successful. She knew she would never try to return herself to their lives after two years had passed.

"How did he even find them?" she asked, leaning heavily on the table in front of her.

"He knows a lot more about you than you probably want to know, to tell you the truth, but none of it came from me, Hermione, I swear. Sometime we'll have to find out who informed him, but not anytime soon. We will have enough on our plates as it is."

Hermione took a deep breath, turning her gaze back to his. Draco reached out and cupped her cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her jawline lovingly.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked suddenly.

"Join me at the Manor. He knows we're married now so there's no way I can go back there without you without paying the price. He will want you on his side, Hermione, he will want you to be a follower of his, regardless of your blood status because he sees you as a way to defeat Harry."

"You can't go there, Hermione," Ron snapped suddenly, slamming his fist on the table.

"I have to go," she said, shaking her head slowly. "I have to."

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, looking ashamed. It was his duty to protect her, to keep her safe and alive and happy – he had failed. "I never wanted this to happen."

"What are you going to tell him?" Harry asked, his hands clenched with worry on top of the table.

"I own a house of my own in northern Wales. It's more of a cottage really, but I have had the place for a while now and I sometimes go there to unwind. I thought we could play it off as though Hermione has been living there."

"Why?" Hermione asked, wondering why she'd need to pretend such a thing. Surely Voldemort would have to know that she was living at the Order headquarters.

"No one has seen you in a long time, Hermione. It wouldn't be too far-fetched for them to assume that you have fled and don't have much to do with the whole situation."

"People think that?" she asked, aghast.

"Some do," he said with a shrug. "I might have helped the rumour along a little bit."

"So what," Ginny asked, trying to catch up with everyone else. "She's going to go to Voldemort and pretend that she hasn't had anything to do with the Order, with us, for the last few years and then join his ranks?"

"Pretty much," Draco said, meeting Hermione's eyes. She thought it was rather smart, especially if some people were already assuming she'd fled years ago. It would help keep her safer, as well.

"I don't like it," Ron said, his eyes flashing.

"It's a game that we're going to have to play," Hermione said after a moment, turning away from Draco and giving Ron a hard look. "That's all this is, it's a game."

"Everything with Voldemort is a game, at this point," Draco said seriously. "He thinks he's won this war, thinks he won it years ago, really. Everyone in his ranks has everything to do with a power play – his followers are constantly trying to one-up each other and climb the twisted ladder he's built."

"Is that what this is about?" Ron asked, eyeing Draco knowingly. "Are you trying to climb the ladder by bringing him Hermione? Is he going to finish her off the second she gets there so he can wound Harry?"

Draco's jaw tightened for a moment, his eyes hardening as he stared at Ron. He had thought they'd built a tentative friendship so he was unsure where the accusations were coming from all of a sudden.

"Stop it, Ron," Hermione snapped. "It isn't like that and we all know it, so stop trying to provoke him into a ridiculous argument. I'm going, and that's the end of this discussion. I'll play the game to the best of my ability and hope that both Draco and I are alive at the end of it all."

Hermione turned away, flipping her hair over her shoulder to prove that she was done with the conversation. She met Draco's eyes and he was glad to see she looked calm and collected.

"You have to keep in contact with us, Hermione, come back to this house every single time Draco does. I need to know that you're okay."

"I will," she said quietly, turning to Harry but still managing to keep her back to Ron. Harry was such an amazing person and seemed to know her better than she knew herself sometimes. He was truly the brother she never had.

"You can't be serious," Ron spluttered. "You can't actually be allowing her to go there with him."

"Allowing me to go there with him?" Hermione asked, her tone icy as she turned back around and gave Ron a hard look. "Harry doesn't have to allow me to go anywhere, thank you very much. Draco is my husband. I will be going with him in order to make sure we stay alive, and I will do so willingly."

"I'm sorry," Ron sighed, rubbing a hand warily across his eyes. "I'm just concerned."

"We're all concerned, Ron, but there's no other way," Harry said as Draco fidgeted, waiting to leave. He'd been gone a lot longer than Voldemort had anticipated, he was sure.

"He has my parents," Hermione stressed, her eyes worried.

"We'll figure it out Hermione. Maybe he'll let them go once you've shown up."

"Maybe," she echoed, but she didn't sound like she believed him for a second. "I guess I'll go pack."

"I'll help you," Ginny offered, following Hermione from the room.

"I hope she hurries," Draco muttered. "I've been gone a lot longer than I should have."

"It's Hermione," Harry offered. "She'll probably be back down here in two minutes."

It actually took her seven, her trunk shrunken and stuffed into her pocket.

"Ready?" she asked, standing tall.

"Don't write," Harry said, smiling cheekily.

"I'm not an idiot," Hermione answered blandly, before smiling widely at him as tears sparkled in her eyes.

"Be safe. Take care of her Draco," he said, giving Hermione a quick one-armed hug before shaking Draco's hand.

"Always," Draco answered quietly, shaking Ron's hand as well before the lanky man scooped Hermione up for a hug.

"I'll see you soon," Hermione told her three friends, turning to her husband and holding out a hand for him to take.

Draco gave a nod before _Apparating_ out of the kitchen, pulling Hermione along in his wake to his 'master'.

They landed softly in the entrance hall of Draco's family home. Voldemort had taken it over years ago and now that Draco was the only remaining Malfoy of his line left Voldemort paraded around like he owned the place. Well, he could have it, for all Draco cared. He'd never live there, anyway, when everything was said and done. If he lived long enough to worry about such things. His home had been tainted by dark magic long before he could remember and he truly had very few good memories about the place.

"I have to take you directly to him, love. Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Hermione answered defiantly, her chin in the air and her posture ramrod straight.

"I think he wants to confirm our marriage and probably question you about a few things – be as honest as you can, for Merlin's sake. We're already on extremely thin ice for keeping him in the dark for so many years. My place in his ranks is hanging by a bloody thread. Be submissive to him, Hermione, I can't stress that enough. It'll be hard, but you have to do it. Remember, love, this is a game and you just became a player."

Hermione nodded tightly and leaned in for a quick kiss, gripping Draco's hand tightly in her own, allowing him to lead her down the corridors and to a large open room where Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange were waiting for him. The woman was sitting near Voldemort's feet, her long hair fanned out across his lap where his bony hand was running through the wild curls.

"Oh look, the Malfoys have finally decided to join us," he said in a whispery, cold voice that had Hermione's arm hair standing on end.

"So sorry, my Lord," Draco said, dropping to a knee. Hermione followed suit but she wasn't too keen on exposing the back of her neck to the man the way her husband was.

"The youngest Mrs. Malfoy. Look at you," Voldemort said in a quiet voice, approaching the couple slowly. Hermione had to suppress a shudder when she saw his bare feet, the toenails yellow and cracked, his feet caked with dirt and what looked suspiciously like blood. "No wonder Draco has kept you secret for so long."

Draco's hand tightened around hers for a moment, completely understanding what Voldemort was hinting at.

"Rise."

Draco got to his feet immediately and lifted his head. His aunt had straightened her posture but was still sitting on the floor, a gleeful look in her eyes.

"Bella," Voldemort said, causing the wild haired witch to jump to her feet, her eyes shining mysteriously. "It seems that young Draco's wife took the initiative to heal his injuries. That just will not do," he said, his voice cold and hard. Draco's arm tensed beside Hermione for a moment, but he dropped her hand quickly and stepped away from her before she could react, making sure he was out of her reach. She turned to him in confusion, trying to meet his eyes.

"Crucio!" Bella's voice rang through the room, making Hermione jump at the anger behind the word.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

 **Hail to the King**

 ** _Watch your tongue or have it cut from your head. Save your life by keeping whispers unsaid. Children roam the streets now orphans of war. Bodies hanging in the streets to adore. Royal flames will carve the path in chaos. Bringing daylight to the night. Death is riding in the town with armor. They've come to take all your rights. Hail to the king, hail to the one. Kneel to the crown, stand in the sun  
Hail to the king._**

 ** _-Avenged Sevenfold – Hail to the King_**

October 14, 1995 – November 17, 1995

Hermione was doing her best to remain strong, as he watched her over the weeks after her attack Draco could tell. She hadn't approached him, but he could tell she wanted to. Their eyes would occasionally meet across the great hall during meals and he had felt her gaze during a few of their shared lessons. He kept his word, though, and allowed her to be the one to approach him. She would, when she needed to speak about everything that had occurred.

Draco had been summoned to Dumbledore's office two days after Hermione's attack where the Headmaster, along with the Minister of Magic and a few of his deputies, proceeded to interrogate him about his father's whereabouts. Apparently, Lucius had dropped from the face of the earth after his attack on Draco's schoolmate, but he had no answers.

"How the hell should I know?" He barked in frustration after being detained for more than an hour. "I don't know what he does with his time and I don't bloody care, either!"

"Where would he go?"

Draco's hackles rose again, ready to lash out for being posed the same question many times over, but Dumbledore held up a hand and ceased Draco's words.

"Of course, Minister, I'm sure no one is implying that Mr. Malfoy has any control over nor responsibility for his father's actions," Dumbledore said, spinning a golden object akin to a sextant in his hands while his eyes twinkled gently at the Minister of Magic. "However, Draco, that does not mean you can't help us with this investigation. Are you aware of anywhere else your father might have decided to take up residence? Perhaps a family property somewhere more remote than Malfoy Manor?"

Draco sat silently for a few moments. Of course he knew about most of his family's other properties, but would he really be able to willingly give away his father's possible hidey-hole?

Hermione Granger flashed in front of his eyes, cowering under a strip of fabric, cuts and burns littered across her small body as her doe-brown eyes stared up at him in fear.

"Of course I know other properties belonging to my family," he answered tersely, his nose only slightly raised into the air.

"Excellent," Dumbledore answered with a small smile, extending a piece of parchment and an already inked quill to Percy Weasley, who knocked over the ink bottle in his eagerness.

"If I make a list, it doesn't leave this room where you've received it," Draco stated boldly, staring the minister of the Wizarding world in the eye. "It cannot get out that I've given up my father or I'll be in more trouble than any of you could fathom."

"But he raped a sixteen-year-old, Mr. Malfoy; surely you can't condone that?" Minister Fudge's face was flushed, eyes wide and lip curled slightly in revulsion.

"Whether I condone it or not isn't the point," he answered coldly. "In my world, in the circles my family is forced to run in - the purebloods, the bloody sacred twenty-eight - to them Hermione Granger is not an innocent young girl. In their minds she's lower than dirt and deserves everything that she's got plus more."

"That's appalling," one of the deputies answered, looking at Draco with something akin to pity.

"It may be, but that's the way the world works. If people were to find out that I gave up Lucius Malfoy because of a mudblood, I would be considered a blood traitor, worse than useless to those people and marked for death."

"You're claiming that if your father's associates were to find out that you cooperated with us, they would kill you?" Minister Fudge asked, his eyes twinkling slightly, hiding a chuckle.

"It doesn't matter."

"This is the perfect opportunity for you to see that Voldemort has returned, Fudge," Dumbledore cut in, surprising Draco. "From what Draco is telling us, the dark side is strong and alive."

"He isn't back, Dumbledore," the man spat defiantly. Draco watched the interchange with interest but kept his face blank. The minister was still in denial then. Grand. "Mr. Malfoy is just telling us that blood prejudice is still alive and thriving, apparently by the threat of death."

"Let us help you, Draco," his headmaster said suddenly, seeming to abandon hope of convincing Fudge and turning to him with concern flashing in his eyes.

"I don't need help," Draco answered stiffly, bending over the parchment and scribbling down the names and locations of other properties he was aware of. "Here's your list. Good luck."

With that Draco took his leave, not even asking for permission.

Two weeks after that delightful encounter, Draco was sitting in the great hall at breakfast, watching the owl post arrive. His father's eagle owl caught his eye and he raised an eyebrow in question as he saw it soaring around the Gryffindor table.

His father surely wasn't stupid enough to send the girl mail from his own owl while she was surrounded by friends and teachers in the great hall, was he?

Apparently so.

The owl swooped down in front of an extremely tired-looking Hermione Granger, who, as Draco knew from watching her for weeks, hadn't informed her friends about the attack. She was tired, withdrawn, and jumpy, and her friends were none the wiser.

Draco watched as Hermione stared at the package in confusion, raising her eyes to meet his. He gave his head a quick shake and jerked it toward the doors before getting to his feet and heading away from the other students' chatter. He could feel Pansy's eyes on his back but continued on, she'd get the hint once she noticed Hermione following him from the room.

He only had to wait a few moments before Hermione came through the doors, her eyes confused as they sought his. He stepped from the shadowy corner he had hidden in and she jumped slightly in surprise before focusing on his face. It cut him up a little to know that she always mistook him for his father at first glimpse. Her face cleared and she stepped up to him, her chin lifted high even though she was trembling slightly.

"Don't open that," Draco said.

"Draco, what-?" Hermione said simultaneously, and his heart clenched at her easy use of his given name.

She looked down to the package in her shaking hand and passed it to him, thrust it upon him more than anything else, he thought.

"Do you know what it is?" She asked, accusing, as his hands closed around the small box.

"No, of course not!"

"Why shouldn't I open it, then?" She challenged. He raised his eyes heavenward in frustration.

"I don't know what it is, but let me tell you, I damn well recognize the owl that delivered it."

"Let's go outside," Hermione said suddenly, taking his free hand and pulling him from the castle as footsteps started echoing toward the doors of the great hall. "You can open it out there."

" _I_ can open it?" He asked, feeling appalled and somewhat ill at the idea.

"Yes. You."

"Why the bloody hell would I want to open it?!"

Annoyed, he tried to push the package back into her hands and withdraw his other hand from hers in the same moment, pushing away from her.

"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. Draco stopped struggling in her grip and looked at her. Even though he had been watching her, it had been from a distance; he hadn't been this close to her since he'd left the hospital wing. The bags under her eyes were dark, and she looked like she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in weeks, and she had pinched, wan features that made her look peaky. She seemed like a spring that had been cocked tight before it was going to let loose. Her hair, although never in immaculate shape, had declined rapidly. It was in a knot at the top of her head and Draco could clearly tell it hadn't been brushed at all in quite a while.

How had her friends not noticed something was different?

"Hermione I… I don't know if I want to know…" He clenched his hands into fists to hide their trembling.

"I need to know," she said a moment later, her eyes on her shoes. "I need to know what it could possibly be that they want from me now, but I can't do it alone. Please, don't make me do it alone."

Draco gripped her hand tighter again and pulled her farther away from the castle toward the forest but he veered to the left and pulled her around the side of the castle. They settled under the eaves of an ancient evergreen, protected from the wind.

"Why haven't you told your friends?" he asked abruptly once they were standing in the shadow of the large building.

"They have enough to worry about," she said flippantly, swiping the thought away with her hand.

"They would want to know, Hermione."

"Well I don't want them to know yet, okay? I can't…" Hermione took a deep breath and squeezed Draco's hand, surprising him with the fact that he was still holding it. "I can't stand to see their reactions."

"You don't look like you've been getting much sleep…"

"A couple hours a night," she answered, her face turned away from his. "I can't sleep without reliving it and I can't keep reliving it."

"You should tell them."

"No," she snapped before cringing away and apologizing. "I'll do it in my own time," she said in a calmer voice.

Draco didn't say anything, just watched her closely. She seemed to be unravelling, not that he blamed her. He really didn't know any fine details about what had happened to her at the hands of his father except for the obvious, and when Madam Pomfrey had been healing her he had been doing his best to focus on her face, tuning out what the Matron of the hospital wing was doing.

"Open it," she whispered, dropping his hand and moving a few steps away.

"Hermione, I – I don't think I can."

"Please, Draco," she said again, unsure why she was whispering still.

He sucked in a breath and dropped his eyes to the small package. He let out a breath and peeled away the paper, revealing a plain box beneath it. As he ripped the paper down the side a small piece of parchment fluttered out, falling to the ground. Draco watched its descent before bending down slowly to scoop it up, his fingers trembling slightly.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he read on that one tiny piece of paper.

 _Dearest Hermione,_

 _It's been days since we've all parted – too many days, really. The other gentlemen and I would like to extend our gratitude to you for fulfilling our need for filth. Your delectable variety has left us craving more. Replaying our memories in a Pensieve and describing each cock-warming moment in hopes of reliving such a delicious experience can only get us so far, though. We look forward to enjoying you again, never soon enough._

 _We have enclosed something of yours as something of a gift, or re-gift, if you will. It is incredibly important to us, but we have every assurance that we will get a new souvenir soon, so we figured you might like this one back._

 _L.M._

Draco stared at the letter in shock. Not only had his father admitted he and his associates had raped and beaten the girl, that she was to be considered nothing but filth, he was now telling her that they couldn't get enough and would be back for more.

And signing the letter 'L.M.' wasn't a very safe way to go about it. His father had to know that the ministry was looking for him, wanted to throw him in Azkaban with all the other rapists and murderers, so why was he putting it all out there?

He must be pretty well hidden if he wasn't even trying to be stealthy.

Draco shoved the letter in his pocket, glad Hermione's back was still turned, and tore the top off the small box open after he took a steadying breath. Hermione turned at the sound, watching with wide eyes as Draco drew out a pair of navy blue lacy knickers. They were torn on one side, almost in half but a few stitches of material were there to hold them together and Draco wanted to vomit, run, and scream with rage all at the same time when he realized that the darker patches on the knickers were blood stains.

What the hell was wrong with his father?

Instead of making a fool of himself Draco flung the knickers to the ground and wrapped his arms around Hermione, who tipped in his direction alarmingly fast, her eyes wide and her mouth cranked open in a silent scream.

Draco lowered them both to the ground, Hermione wrapped in his arms and her butt wedged securely between his thighs. He held her tight and thought about an endless list of violent acts the men who had done this to her – his father included – deserved and how the girl in his arms hadn't done anything to warrant such treatment.

Hermione was shaking so hard that Draco was concerned she was going into shock.

"What did the note say?" she asked after a while, once she was calm enough to form words. Draco was caught off guard; he hadn't realized she'd seen the note.

"Nothing that you need to worry about."

"I need to know."

"No. You don't. It doesn't matter, really. It was just a bunch of trash to scare you, don't worry about it."

Hermione drew her wand from her inner pocket and with a shaky hand pointed it at her ruined knickers.

" _Incendio_ ," she whispered, watching as they lit up quickly.

They sat beside her burning knickers like some sort of freaks around a pleasant fire, watching as they burned down to a mass of twisted, melted elastic that entwined with itself until it was a small ball in the dirt.

"Who were the other men?" Draco asked in a whisper, still holding Hermione tightly.

"I don't know," she answered back in a quiet voice. "If I had known I would have told."

"Did you see what they looked like?" Draco asked, ignoring the way she shook in his arms. It was probably wrong of him to press her for details when it was all so fresh, but something inside of him needed answers. He needed to make sure that everyone involved paid an appropriate price for something so horrendous.

Hermione explained the few features she could remember from the other men, and by the time she was finished telling her story, still shaking with her head buried beneath his chin, he knew exactly who he'd be looking for when he had the chance.

They parted ways not long after that, Hermione getting to her feet with a pretty blush staining her cheeks.

"Draco?" she'd called when she was almost around the edge of the castle.

"Yeah?" he'd answered distractedly, staring at the letter he'd extracted from his pocket.

"Can we do this again sometime?"

Draco looked up in surprise, his blond fringe falling into his silver eyes as he took her in. She looked a little less withdrawn, a little stronger; maybe it was just his eyes playing tricks on him but if he could manage to at least fix some of what his father had fucked up he'd take the opportunity.

"Of course," he'd answered, smiling genuinely.

Hermione gave him a small wave and disappeared around the side of the castle, leaving Draco alone to dwell on the letter his father had sent a sixteen-year-old girl with the sole purpose of tormenting her.

Draco sat alone beside the second small fire of the day, vowing to get back at the people who had so heedlessly ravaged a life – because of things that really didn't matter that much.

Draco began spending a lot more time with Hermione, albeit in secret. They'd managed to meet up in the library on most occasions, because Hermione's friends never followed her there. Harry and Ron still didn't know about anything that had happened to her. On their third or fourth meeting she'd brought him a small notebook spelled with the Protean charm so that they could send short messages between the two of them. It was a perfect way to decide where and when to meet, and they began to vary the locations of their rendezvous. Draco figured it was better to stay unpredictable to keep his Slytherin friends from stumbling across him and his new friend. Pansy knew, and did everything she could to make excuses for him, keeping him out of the minds of the other Slytherins more often than not. Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, who were his other two closer friends, seemed to be aware of his absences, but they never said anything, asked him any questions, or brought other peoples' attention to it.

It was three weeks later, when Hermione hadn't met Draco at their predetermined meeting spot that he began to get nervous. He waited over an hour before he came to terms with the fact that she wasn't going to show, which was very unlike her. She had never missed before, hadn't even been more than a few minutes late, and Draco knew something was very wrong.

He made up his mind and left the seclusion of the Hufflepuff basement, heading for the floor he knew housed the Gryffindors. He had Hermione's vague description of what their portrait looked like, and would search the entire floor if he had to in order to find it. He had been spending an awful lot of time with Hermione over the last three weeks and he could even admit to himself that he had grown rather fond of her – if something happened, if his _father_ had done anything else… Draco couldn't think about it.

Draco was skirting around a corner on the seventh floor, determined to find the entrance to the Gryffindor tower, when he crashed right into Harry Potter, who looked to be doing his own version of stealthy skirting through the corridors.

"Malfoy," Potter said, clearly surprised. "What the bloody hell are you doing up here?"

Draco took a breath and took a second to decide which course of action to take. He could either ask Potter about the tower, wasting valuable time to explain himself when the sod no doubt asked him twenty questions, or he could lay out a usual scathing remark and head back to the dungeons, leaving Hermione to whatever fate she was destined to.

"Before you start going on about being in the corridors after hours, I need to know how to get into your tower."

"What?" Potter asked, clearly caught off guard. "Why would you need to do that?"

He didn't look like he was getting ready for a fight, which was surprising in itself, and he really seemed only curious, but Draco knew his answer was going to cause a lot of problems for him in the future.

"This isn't anything to do with me at all, okay Potter? And you can't ask me any questions until after I've dealt with it, but if you must know, which I'm sure you must, because you're you, Hermione might be in trouble."

"Hermione?" Potter asked, looking at Draco in confusion. Draco could see the questions floating behind his eyes, looking at Draco in complete and utter surprise. Draco felt like an imbecile and knew he must have looked the part, but for some reason it seemed to endear himself to Potter, who straightened up suddenly. "This isn't a joke, is it?" he asked, looking tired.

"Not even a little bit."

"I'll be right back," he said, turning around and running up the corridor, leaving Draco staring after him in surprise.

November 30, 2004

"Crucio!" Bellatrix screamed, her wand aiming at Draco who willingly took the curse in the chest just to keep the focus off of Hermione.

Hermione watched as the jet of light hit her husband and he flew backward a few feet before slamming into the floor, his head bouncing a bit off of the stones. She saw his twitching extremities and heard his groans of pain and something in her brain just snapped.

Hermione didn't think about what she was doing as she turned to face Bellatrix Lestrange, pointing her wand at the woman.

"Expelliarmus," a cold voice called, causing Hermione's wand to rip out of her hand and fly across the room.

She didn't think twice about it before she leapt up the few stairs separating her and the woman cursing her husband and rolled up her hand into a fist, clocking her right on the cheekbone and sending her flying. Bellatrix landed on the floor beside Voldemort's throne and stared at Hermione's approaching form in surprise, but before she could defend herself Hermione was all over her. She picked up a loose stone and slammed it down on the older woman's leg, grinning to herself when she felt a crack beneath it.

Bellatrix screamed out in a mixture of pain and fury, but she still held her wand and with one wave sent Hermione flying backward, where she hit the wall and crumpled at the bottom. The woman began to cackle but it was cut off abruptly as Hermione jumped to her feet in defiance, glaring the wild haired Bellatrix down as she continued cursing Draco. Hermione saw the blood behind his head and rushed forward again.

Bellatrix was expecting her this time and turned her wand to Hermione instead, but she dodged her curses and lunged forward, taking her out at the knees. Bellatrix struggled, but being a pureblooded witch she'd never been taught how to effectively fight the muggle way. Hermione wrenched the wand out of her hand easily and threw it on the floor, slamming her foot down on top of it and feeling the satisfied crunch as it broke into two.

"Don't ever touch my husband again you fucking bitch!" Hermione screamed, cocking her fist back for another hit as Bellatrix screamed in fury about her broken wand.

Hermione felt herself lift into the air suddenly, gently, and looked around herself in shock. She thought Draco must have realized what she had done and was trying to get her to control her temper, but she caught sight of him in her peripheral vision and realized he was still laying on the floor, slowly coming around and groaning as he sat up higher.

Hermione was frozen in place, her hand balled into a fist and her arm cocked back as if going to strike, but she was steadily moving away from Bellatrix and back toward Draco. His eyes widened as he took in the scene around him, realizing Hermione must have done something incredibly stupid in order for Voldemort to use magic on her.

She was set down beside her husband and released; the second she was able to move her muscles again she turned around and was looking directly into the red eyes of Voldemort.

"Quite the display," he said softly, his voice high pitched and unsettling.

"I will not let her hurt him," Hermione answered defiantly, gesturing toward Bellatrix angrily.

"True love," Voldemort mocked, sweeping by Hermione and Draco and heading toward Bellatrix, who was still sitting on the floor, fuming about her broken wand, bruised face, and hurt leg. "I must say that I was shocked to find that young Draco here was already married. Very shocked indeed. Even more so to learn that he is able to keep such secrets from his master."

Hermione felt a chill go down her spine at those words, but dismissed the man in front of her and turned to Draco, determined to help him to his feet and stop the bleeding at the back of his head.

A sudden pain in the back of Hermione's leg had her breathing out in surprise, turning around to look at it she could see blood dripping down the back of it. Voldemort's lipless mouth was turned up in what must have been thought of as a smile.

"You will not turn your back on me," he hissed, annoyed by the girls' defiance. "Did your precious husband tell you about the new people I've acquired, as of late?"

"If you're talking about my parents, then yes, though you should know that their memories were altered years ago. They have no idea who I am, so I'm sure you weren't able to get any information from them."

"Information? No, I brought them here to get you to finally show yourself. I don't know how you've managed to get Draco to be so devoted to you; I've honestly considered just killing the both of you and being done with it, but according to a prophecy I've heard I'll – unfortunately - need to keep you around for a while."

"I thought I was to join your ranks and help you?"

Voldemort laughed, a truly chilling sound echoing through the almost empty ballroom.

"Until you and your worthless husband can prove your full support to me, you'll be joining nothing. Did you truly believe I was just going to let you walk in here and join my Death Eaters without any sort of proof? Draco has made it abundantly clear that he's been able to lie to me for years. Who's to say that he isn't also lying to me about his allegiances? You must really take me for a fool, girl."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say, because she had actually thought, foolishly, that she was going to walk in there and say she'd join him. Now they had to 'prove' themselves. Great.

"Take them to the dungeons for now, Bella," Voldemort told the wild woman after graciously healing her injuries. "They can come out when I've decided what their next tasks will be."

December 9, 2004

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered for the hundredth time as they shared body heat in the freezing dungeons. They had very little to keep them warm, mostly just extra straw and hay that had been shoveled in for various reasons, but they used whatever they could.

"Stop," Hermione answered back, burying her head into his chest.

They'd had numerous conversations in the slight privacy Hermione could get them by using her weak, wandless _Muffliato_ charm, but it was better than nothing. They'd already come to the conclusion that they'd die if Voldemort made them stay in the dungeons for too long. They knew there were others imprisoned down there for various reasons, but the dungeons were vast and they were nowhere near anyone else.

They'd agreed to do whatever the mad man wanted them to do in order to save themselves. In order to prove they were going to be in allegiance with the Dark Lord they'd have to suck it up and play the game properly. Hermione had apologized to Draco numerous times for losing her cool and attacking Bellatrix, and Draco had apologized more times than Hermione could count for getting them into the situation in the first place, but there was nothing they could do but move forward.

"Whatever it takes," Hermione whispered, dreaming of a warm bath and comfortable mattress to share with her husband instead of concrete floors and dirty straw. Draco thought of well-rounded meals and clean clothes instead of stale bread and water and the dirt encrusted clothes they were wearing – his stiff with blood.

Draco nodded and gripped her cold hand tighter in his own.

The clanging of their cell door caught them off guard and Hermione hurriedly took down her _Muffliato_ spell before anyone realized she could cast without a wand.

"Get up," a voice snarled, causing Hermione and Draco to get to their shaky feet as steadily as possible. "The Dark Lord has a task for the two of you to complete to show your allegiance."

Hermione nodded and gripped Draco's hand tighter in her own, her arm shaking with fear. She could only imagine what the mad man would make them do after he realized how much he'd been tricked by one of his followers in the past. Draco wasn't kidding when he said his position in the ranks was hanging by a thread, but Hermione didn't understand enough about how the rankings and positions in Voldemort's army were given and was unable to fully grasp what it meant if you were out of favor.

Freezing cold dungeons and dirty straw was probably a lot better off than some of the others got, if the truth be told.

"Merlin, Hermione," Draco whispered, his voice hoarse. "Be submissive!"

She nodded shakily, determined to follow it through.

They were led to the same room they had been in before, but this time it was packed full of followers and prisoners alike. The prisoners were beaten and bloody, held down in chains that looked heavy on their wrists and ankles, but Hermione avoided looking at them too closely – she had a sudden feeling that she knew exactly what their tasks would consist of.

She followed the pressure of Draco's hand as he led them to stand in front of the Dark Lord, kneeling alongside him and this time showing him the back of her neck – something she'd refused to do at their last meeting.

"My lord," she murmured, copying her husband.

Voldemort cackled in glee for a moment before holding out each of their wands, waiting for them to take them. Hermione waited until Draco had his own firmly in his hand before she stepped forward meekly and accepted the wand being presented to her.

"Finish off the lot and burn them in the back garden," Voldemort said, gesturing to the prisoners in the room.

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat, still refusing to look at the people before her.

"Yes, my Lord," she answered strongly, lifting her chin up defiantly and staring at the prisoners in front of her before lifting her wand in a surprisingly steady grip.

" _Avada Kedavra_ ," Draco's voice said from beside her, the green light shooting from his wand and hitting a young muggle girl directly in the chest.

Screams erupted from around them and Hermione followed suit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello all! I am SO sorry about the delay but I have a really good set of excuses, I promise! First of all, this chapter is NOT beta'd as of now. She is away (has actually been deployed) and I didn't want to bother her at this point in time, so I decided to just go ahead and post. She can catch up later when she has more time! Second, I am just about done school! (Yay me!) I have been super busy with that, and also with house renovations (new bathroom!) So yeah. Sorry! If there are any mistakes that you'd like to point out please feel free to let me know, because again, this has not been beta'd as of now!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Unholy Confessions**

 ** _Nothing will last in this life, our time is spent constructing, now you're perfecting a world meant to sin. Constrict your hands around me, squeeze till I cannot breathe, this air tastes dead inside me,  
contribute to our own plague._**

 ** _Avenged Sevenfold – Unholy Confessions_**

November 17, 1995

Draco only had to wait a few minutes before Harry Potter was trotting back down the hallway toward him, something silvery in one hand and an old looking piece of parchment in the other.

"She's not in our tower, Malfoy. I asked the girls to check her room while I ran up to mine and they told me there's no one in there."

Draco felt his stomach clench tightly, worry spiking through his veins immediately.

"I'm going to need some answers," Potter said quietly, leading Draco into an empty classroom and beginning to unfold the old parchment. Draco watched in quiet awe as Potter muttered something over the parchment and lines began to spread out from the tip of his wand. It only took Draco a moment to realize a map was blossoming, forming in crawling lines across the parchment. He gave Potter a calculated look before the other boy said, "Well, help me look, Malfoy! You said it's important!"

Draco stepped forward quickly, his stomach in knots as his silver eyes scanned the parchment in front of him, looking for the name of the girl he was searching for.

"There," he said after a few moments of silence, pointing to the lone figure in the back corner of the library.

"Of course," Potter said, sounding relieved. "The library."

Draco, however, was not relieved in the slightest. His worry was pounding through his veins as he watched the unmoving figure of his friend and he backed away quickly, dusting off his hands as he made to take his leave.

"I'm coming with you," Potter said, mumbling something that cleared the peculiar map before he folded it back up and stuffed it into his pocket. Draco felt the sneer forming on his face as he began to shake his head, indicating that he would be going alone.

"Don't even start," Potter said sharply, stuffing the map in his pocket and shaking out the silvery material in his hand. "We'll go together under this, so we don't get caught, and find her together. She has some explaining to do anyway," he added pointedly, raising an eyebrow at Draco.

Draco thought about it and paused, realizing that it would probably be better for him if Hermione was present while Draco explained everything, because even though it was the truth it was pretty damned unbelievable that the two of them were friends. Draco sometimes felt that he and Hermione were becoming closer than friends and he didn't feel like having to duel Potter when his feelings were put out in the open.

"Fine," he snarled, intent on keeping his bad mood, but he watched as Potter swung the cloak around his shoulders and disappeared. Draco stopped in his tracks, his mouth agape in complete surprise.

"Bloody hell, Potter, you have an invisibility cloak?"

"Passed down from my father," Potter answered, lifting the corner and gesturing for Draco to get underneath. Draco couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that erupted at those words, passed down from his father, who had been dead almost his entire life… must be nice. The only thing Draco got passed from his father was a hearty smack, brutal curse, or harsh words.

"Nice," he said instead. "Now can we get a bloody move on?"

Potter gave him a look and started off, clearly confused as to why Draco was so concerned about Hermione – someone he was supposed to hate with all of his being.

"She's been different lately," Potter said suddenly, after passing through many corridors in complete silence. They'd managed to get down two flights of stairs without sharing a word and Draco wanted to groan aloud now that Potter decided to open his mouth; he chose to be completely silent instead.

"I've noticed it and even brought it up with Ron, but Ron figures she's just upset that he's been snogging Romilda Vane in the common room in the evenings."

Draco couldn't help the sneer on his face – of course that bloody twat Ronald Weasley would assume the only thing that could upset Hermione would have something to do with him. Idiots.

"I never really thought that was the reason though and now I know she's been spending time with you, which is about as strange as it can get… What's going on, Malfoy?"

"Let's enter the library on the fourth floor and take one of the staircases in there down," Draco said instead of giving Potter any answers. He could ask Hermione once they'd found her. "I think it'll be better than staying in the main part of the school, Peeves never enters the library and he's the one I'm most worried about right now."

Potter nodded and stopped speaking, understanding that Draco wasn't going to give him any answers.

They were halfway down the stairs leading to the first floor of the library when they began to hear small sniffles. Okay, so she was crying – that couldn't lead to anything good.

"Listen, Potter, I know how much you love to barge into situations and save the day, what with your whole hero complex, but let me handle this, okay?"

"Let _you_ handle it?" Potter asked incredulously. "Have you gone completely barkers?"

"You know we've been spending time together, so just let me handle it. Once she's settled down you can come out."

Potter didn't answer, just stared at Draco as though he'd sprouted a few extra heads. Draco didn't wait for an answer before he flung off the cloak and hurried down the stairs, his long legs taking them two at a time effortlessly. Potter stood on the stairs, listening as Draco quietly called for Hermione. He hurried down the stairs and followed Draco's voice, making sure to be silent as he approached.

Draco spotted Hermione huddled in the corner beneath a window, her hair in her face and her chest rising and falling with quiet sobs.

"Hermione," he groaned, moving forward quickly and dropping down beside her.

Hermione jumped when his hand touched her shoulder, but her head shot up and she looked him straight in the eyes. "Draco," she cried, throwing herself into his arms. Draco fell back onto his butt as Hermione climbed into his lap, her arms tight around his shoulders as his slowly made their way around her waist, holding her to his body gently.

"What's happened?" he asked after a few moments, letting her calm down a little bit. He was very aware that Potter was somewhere in the vicinity, watching everything unfold.

Hermione shook her head, her hair fluttering around the both of them with the movement. Draco sighed and pulled her left arm from around his neck, taking the elastic there off of her wrist gently before he began to bunch her hair up into a humongous bun on the top of her head. He never wanted anyone to see him doing something like that, especially Potter, but he needed to be natural with her in order to find out what had happened.

Once her hair was secure he pulled his sleeve over his palm and began wiping the moisture from her face gently, Hermione had yet to meet his eyes.

"Tell me what happened. You don't know how worried I was when you didn't show – Hermione, I had to hunt down Potter to figure out where your common room was."

"Harry?"

Hermione's eyes met his finally, surprise evident in them for a moment before she broke away from his gaze and looked at the floor. She slowly reached inside her robes and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and already opened box.

Draco groaned.

"Why did you open it? You should have brought it to me."

"I had to know," she answered in a shaky voice.

"I told you last time that you didn't need to know, it was just a bunch of garbage to scare you."

"Read it," she urged, pushing it under his nose. Draco shook his head, turning his face away. He didn't want to read the damn thing, he was already very aware of what the last letter said and he didn't need to see anything else.

"Read it," she said again, more forcefully. She was straddling him and thrust the letter right into his face, not really giving him much of a choice. Draco still had his arms around her waist and didn't want to fight with her so he sucked in a breath and read the parchment that was dangling in front of his silvery eyes.

 _My dearest lovely,_

 _I sincerely hope that you are as excited to see me as I am you. I love watching you in school, I love seeing how uncomfortable I have made you in your own skin. It tents my cloak in the most magnificent of ways. Please stay away from my deplorable son, as his jealousy of our relationship may make our next encounter yours, and his, last moments on earth._

 _Until I see you alone and so delightfully unwilling,_

 _L.M._

Draco let out a breath and met Hermione's brown eyes, shocked by what he just read.

"What the bloody hell," he whispered, ripping the parchment from her hand and re-reading it fretfully. Once he was done he looked around himself nervously, wondering how his father knew that they were spending time together.

"He sent me this," Hermione said quietly, slowly holding out the box to Draco, who took it despite his shaking hands.

Nestled inside the small box was a chain with a small pendant on it. Draco's vision went black for a moment, the world pressing in on him when he realized it was his own necklace that he'd left on his dresser before leaving for school. It was a solid silver chain with a dragon pendant that was encrusted in sapphires and rubies.

"He knows," Draco answered, not knowing what else to say. "He knows we're friends and we're both going to be punished for it."

"No, Draco," Hermione said, suddenly sounding strong. "I'm taking this note to Dumbledore. I was stupid to burn the last 'gift' without letting our Headmaster know, but I'm not doing it again. I've had enough of this, you hear me?! Enough of it! He's in this castle and our teachers are going to damn well know about it."

Draco was stunned. His father – his father the rapist – was still tormenting Hermione and was now threatening him as well. He was a disgusting, despicable man, and Draco didn't want to be associated with him in any way, not any more. He'd stand by Hermione, he'd tell everyone what had happened and that he'd grown feelings for the girl before he'd allow his father to do one more thing to hurt her.

"You're right," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "You're completely right. But before we go anywhere I should tell you that Potter is here, he helped me find you."

"Harry is here?" Hermione asked, looking scared for a moment. The fact that she was still straddling Draco didn't seem to enter her mind as she looked around in surprise.

There was sigh a few feet away and Harry's head appeared out of thin air. "Even though I have about a million questions right now, you two seem very serious about getting to the Headmaster, so maybe we should have our conversation in the morning?"

"Thanks, Potter," Draco said, dislodging Hermione from his lap and getting to his feet, helping her to stand. Her eyes were shining as she stared at Harry in complete surprise. She knew that he was more level headed than Ron but she also expected him to have some sort of argument about what was going on with her and Draco Malfoy.

"Meet me at the bench on the far side of the Black Lake during breakfast," he said as an answer, his green eyes boring into Draco's until he nodded.

"Stay safe, Hermione, and if you need anything don't hesitate to contact me."

Harry held up a small object and it took Draco a moment to realize he was clutching a coin. Protean charm, most likely.

Hermione nodded and took Draco's hand bravely, looking at Harry as though she dared him to challenge her. Instead of a negative reaction, Harry just shrugged and covered himself back up with his cloak, disappearing into the dark as Draco and Hermione shared a look.

They were truly in this together, now.

They made their way to the entrance of the Headmaster's tower in silence, Hermione's hand still shaking in his slightly. Draco laced their fingers together and held on tight, still holding the box with his pendant in the other hand.

"I don't know the password," Hermione said once they were standing outside the gargoyle's that guarded the office.

Draco didn't either, but instead of letting it hinder him he just started yelling at the gargoyle to let them pass. It didn't budge.

After a few minutes Hermione was ready to give up, but Draco seemed to be making enough noise to garner the attention of their headmaster, who came down the spiral staircase and stared at his students with wide eyes for a moment. His shockingly blue eyes flicked down to their joined hands momentarily before he smiled warmly at them and allowed them to follow him upstairs to his office.

Draco took a seat and rested his heavy head on his hand as he watched Hermione pace in front of him She was explaining everything that had happened over the last months to their Headmaster, who offered them each a cup of strong tea before settling down to listen to her story closely.

Once she got to the most recent letter – the one that hadn't been lit on fire – she showed it to Dumbledore, who seemed to perk up considerably with this new information. He held a hand out to Hermione, silencing her as he sent out several Patronus charms that took the shape of a Phoenix and soared through the still closed windows.

"In the castle, you say?"

Hermione held out the letter to Dumbledore so he could see with his own eyes.

"He knows Draco and I have been spending time together, so he obviously isn't lying about his whereabouts. He's in the castle and he's been following us around and watching our movements."

"This is very concerning," Dumbledore admitted with a sigh. "I'd like the two of you to stay in my office tonight, it's safe here and the teachers and I are all going on the lookout. Do either of you have any idea how he would have managed to get into the castle without altering the wards?"

Draco shook his head no, but he was surprised when Hermione hesitated. She finally let out a sigh and began to explain about the passage that led from beneath the candy shop Honeydukes, in Hogsmeade, to the statue of the hump-backed, one-eyed witch on the third floor.

Dumbledore looked slightly disturbed about the fact that there was an entrance into the castle that he knew nothing about, but he just nodded and swept from the room, leaving them there alone.

"I should have mentioned the passageway years ago," Hermione groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

"Don't worry about it," Draco answered, he was tired and didn't want to deal with any more emotion than he absolutely had to. "He knows now and is gone to check. I hope that's where Lucius is so this can be done and over with."

"I'm sorry I've put you into this position," Hermione said sadly, watching Draco through wide eyes. "I shouldn't have brought you into this, knowing it was your father who was going to be punished."

"Listen, Hermione," Draco said, suddenly worried Hermione wouldn't want anything to do with him. "I know there's a lot we've talked about, but there's also a lot we haven't, and I don't harbour any wonderful feelings toward my father. I never have and his actions over the last few months have done nothing but solidify that in my mind. I don't want to be anything like him," Draco admitted quietly, his cheeks tinging red with the admission.

"You aren't," Hermione said kindly, approaching him slowly. "I never thought I'd say this, but you are as far from your father as you could get. I … like you, Draco."

Draco smiled and reached for her, pulling her into his lap and resting his head on her shoulder. They'd spent so much time together over the last months that touching her didn't seem wrong at all, it seemed and felt right, and he'd do it as much as he could. Especially since she didn't stiffen at contact with him like she had in the beginning.

"I want you to have this," he said after a few moments of silence, plucking the pendant from the box and holding it out for her. "It's special to me, which is why I leave it at home during school, but now I see that you're special to me too."

Hermione's cheeks were stained red and her eyes were shimmering with happiness as she turned her back to him, allowing him to place the necklace around her long, graceful neck.

"I care about you," he whispered, pulling her back into him and closing his eyes in contentment.

Hermione sighed.

November 18, 1995

Draco's eyes popped open and then squinted shut as the sun glaring in through the windows struck his pupils. His legs were numb and he began to stretch them out before he realized someone was sitting on him. He shifted so his eyes were out of direct line of the sun and opened them again, seeing a large bun in front of his face immediately.

 _"Hermione_ ," he whispered, relaxing again. Then he tensed as he realized that they were still in the Headmaster's office and the man was sitting across from them at his desk, looking rather pleased with himself.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy."

"Sir."

Hermione began to stir at the sound of their voices and she yawned widely, stretching her arms back and bonking Draco straight on the nose.

"Sorry," she mumbled, seconds before she bolted upright and looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. "Headmaster," she stuttered, jumping from Draco's lap and moving to a separate chair.

Draco could hardly hold in his chuckle.

"We've apprehended Lucius Malfoy in the tunnel between Honeydukes and the castle. He was unable to _Apparate_ since he was still technically on Hogwarts grounds, and once we had him out of the limits he was taken to the Ministry immediately. He's already been escorted to Azkaban and is waiting there for his trial dates, which will probably not be for quite some time."

Hermione looked relieved before turning worried eyes to Draco.

"Good," Draco said, mostly for Hermione's sake. She was always so worried that he would be resentful toward her for having his father arrested, but really that was the least she should be doing to the man. Draco knew that the other men who had harmed Hermione were living a short life, and if the apparent ringleader wasn't his own flesh and blood he would probably end his life, as well.

"I'd like to speak to you about the upcoming war, Draco," Dumbledore said suddenly, causing Hermione's eyes to get two sizes bigger than usual before she looked uncomfortable. Her and Draco had never spoken about the war – they were on opposite sides and both of them knew it – so speaking about it would just be plain painful.

"What about it?" Draco asked stiffly, suddenly feeling defensive.

"I think you should reconsider your loyalties."

"Excuse me, Sir, but my loyalties are to myself."

"What about Miss. Granger."

"Of course Hermione too, or I wouldn't be here right now."

"Well, Hermione's loyalties are with the light."

"I'm very aware of that, thank you," Draco answered waspishly.

"I'm just saying that with that in mind, you should reconsider your loyalties."

"I've already told you, Sir, that I have no loyalties to either the light or the dark."

Dumbledore sat back in surprise, his eyes losing a bit of their twinkle. He wasn't expecting the boy to be so damned difficult about it all.

"Well think about it," Dumbledore said, his fingers steepled in front of his chin.

"I will," Draco said stiffly, but Dumbledore could tell it was only to shut him up.

Draco got to his feet and held a hand out to Hermione, who took it immediately and stood as well. They took a few steps toward the doors but Draco stopped and turned back to his Headmaster.

"Thank you for jailing my father and ensuring her safety," he said, his face blank as stone as he stared his Headmaster down. Dumbledore faltered under his cold gaze for a moment before giving a small nod.

Draco could tell that Hermione was uncomfortable as he ushered her down the stairs and told her to grab some breakfast before they had to meet with Potter. They separated once they were closer to the great hall and went to their separate tables.

"Where the hell have you been, mate?" Blaise Zabini asked curiously as Draco took a seat beside him. He sent a small glare at their Headmaster, who had just emerged from a back door and approached his seat at the middle of the staff table.

"We need to talk," Draco ground out, uncomfortable with the experience he'd just had with his Headmaster. The man was trying to recruit students to join their cause – not that it was wrong – but Draco felt bad about considering everything in his life without having his friends aware of any of it. "All of us, you, me, Theo, and Pansy. Meet me at the bench at the far side of the Black Lake in twenty minutes."

Draco grabbed a few slices of buttered toast and turned away from his confused friend, heading for the doors of the Great Hall.

Hermione and Harry watched him go before grabbing their own small breakfasts and following, unaware of the three Slytherins following not far behind.

December 10, 2004

Draco wanted nothing more than to collapse into a bed after at least an hour long shower, so hot that it would burn off his skin cells and make him feel at least somewhat clean. It had been a long night, longer than any he'd ever experienced before.

Once he and his wife had slain the innocents that were prisoners of Voldemort's, slain them in cold blood, they'd levitated the bodies to the back garden and piled them high before casting _Incendio_ charms on them all, watching them burn and doing their best to hold in their emotions.

Draco felt like he wanted to cry so he could only imagine how Hermione was handling it – especially considering that she had been friends with some of the people at some point during her life. Once the bodies were smoking husks in the cold air and the stench of burning pork had lessened some, Voldemort came out the back door, clapping his hands sarcastically.

"You've managed to get through part one of your test," the evil man said, cold, red eyes watching Hermione closely. Too closely for Draco's comfort. He inched toward her and offered her his hand, which she latched onto tighter than she ever had before.

"Now we have two more prisoners downstairs that we've kept alive for information. It'll be up to you to get it out of them in any way possible before ending their lives."

Hermione sniffled. Draco knew that she didn't have what it took to be a cold blooded killer – she'd already done so much worse than she ever would have imagined, and it was his fault, really. Her soul was already damaged enough from the evening so he would take it upon himself to do the torturing, to get the information they needed. He couldn't make her do it.

"Yes, my Lord," she answered, surprising Draco with how strong she sounded.

"Rowle will accompany you," he said, gesturing to the hooded man standing a few feet behind him.

The walk wasn't long enough, in Draco's opinion. He could feel Hermione's shoulder shaking against his arm as they made their journey to the dungeons and he knew that whoever had been kept for alive to be tortured by them would be someone they knew quite well.

Unfortunately, he was right.

His cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, was standing alongside her husband Remus Lupin, chains wrapped tightly around their wrists and ankles, the skin beneath the shackles raw looking from them trying to escape. Tonks' hair was a dull brown and she was sporting cuts and bruises on her face and arms. Remus looked much worse, he didn't look conscious, and while he wasn't bloody, he also was well looking. Draco knew that for that reason he was going to have to kill Tonks first – Remus wasn't aware enough to understand what was going on and he wouldn't be able to deal with his cousins pleading to keep her husband alive.

"Draco? Hermione?" Tonks asked curiously, and Draco knew he had to shut her up before she gave it away that they'd been in their presence not that long ago.

"Shut up, blood traitor," Draco snarled. "If I wanted to hear your pathetic cries I'd ask. All I want to hear from you are answers to my questions, got it?"

Draco was pointing his wand at his cousin threateningly and he saw her eyes widen in fear, something that made his stomach drop with shame.

"Where is Harry Potter?" He knew that Tonks wasn't going to give him any decent answer but had to at least look like he was attempting to get information from her.

"I can't say," she said honestly, staring at Draco in confusion. "Like we've told all these other idiots, it's guarded by a spell and I'm not the secret keeper, I can't tell anyone where he or anyone else is!"

Draco faltered. How was he, or anyone else, supposed to get the information out of her if she'd already told them that it was being hidden under the _Fidelus_ charm?

"I will force the truth from you in any way possible, you dirty slag. Tell me everything you know!"

"I can't," Tonks shouted before she started to sob. Draco watched her face crumple up as her cries echoed around the room. His cousin covered her face dramatically as he swallowed hard, trying to get the gumption to do something drastic.

"Don't lie, you little bitch!" Hermione yelled suddenly, her voice breaking through the dungeon and catching Draco off guard. "Tell me where he is or I'll kill your husband right here in front of your eyes!"

"Hermione, why are you doing this?" Nymphadora moaned, her voice cracking.

"I think that much is obvious," Hermione answered in anger, her hair starting to crackle with energy. "Tell me where Harry Potter is or Remus gets it right now."

Tonks took one look at Hermione's narrowed eyes and knew she was dead serious. The woman before her was different than the one she had known only weeks prior. Something had happened to change Hermione from the sweet, albeit bossy girl into a monster who would kill a friend in order to keep her husband safe.

"He's – he's in a safe house called Grim - Grimmauld Place," she answered after a moment, knowing she could either tell the girl now and avoid the torture or hold it back and still end up telling her the location in the end of it all.

"Avada Kedavra," Hermione said indifferently, pointing her wand at Tonks and watching as her curse sunk directly into the other witch's chest. Draco was horrified and wanted to cover his eyes as his cousins body went limp, the chains keeping her suspended above the floor in an eerie fashion. He turned to his wife, venom ready to spew from his lips, but watched as the same green curse sunk into the chest of the werewolf. Hermione looked calm and collected, her eyes narrowed at the figures before her. After a moment of looking at her handiwork she turned on her heel and stormed from the dungeons.

Draco's mouth was so dry, and his stomach so queasy feeling he didn't even know if he could follow, but he took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. Once Draco saw Rowle push off the wall and follow Hermione he forced himself to go as well.

"I've gotten the information, my Lord," Hermione said once she and Draco had entered the ballroom and approached the man. After she spoke the words they each dropped to their knees and lowered their heads in the supplicating gesture that was expected of them.

"Grimmauld Place," Rowle said gleefully, apparently unable to let anyone else get the satisfaction of giving the Dark Lord the location of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco heard Hermione let out a small sigh of relief upon the intrusion of the dimwitted man and furrowed his brows. He wondered if he was missing something crucial about everything that had just occurred.

"Excellent," Voldemort said, standing to his dirty feet. Bellatrix, who was kneeling on the floor beside his throne, was practically panting with anticipation. "We attack in an hour. You two may go get cleaned up and stay in Draco's old room, you'll be branded tonight."

Draco nodded to the Dark Lord before getting to his feet and pulling Hermione up with him. They hastily made their way to his bedroom, Draco leading, and once they were inside he put up every single silencing and muffling charm he could think of before he turned to his wife.

"What the hell was that?!" he snarled, looking at her like he didn't know her at all. He'd never been so unsure of her in all of his life. It showed on his face and Hermione felt a pang in her chest at the look of complete and utter distrust her husband felt toward her in that moment.

"It wasn't Tonks and Remus and it was always a plan the Order had in place," Hermione cried, hoping she would be able to explain herself adequately without upsetting Draco even more. She couldn't bear the look of wariness and suspicious he was giving her.

"What are you talking about?!"

"That wasn't the real Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, Draco! A few years back Fred and George perfected a spell that would make an exact replica of people. It's kind of like the polyjuice potion, but they were able to work it work with inanimate objects so that another person wouldn't be taking their place. The senior members of the Order, myself included, had the spellwork done on them. Don't you see Draco? That wasn't really them – it was an inanimate object charmed to walk and talk like them."

"Hermione… what if it was them? They seemed too real to me to have been some trick pulled by Fred and George Weasley."

"It wasn't really them Draco. While they look, walk, and talk like human beings, they don't have any organs or blood. They would not be able to cry."

"Hermione, wake up! Nymphadora was shedding tears back there! She was bawling!"

"She wasn't, Draco. She made it look like she was, she had the right expression, but there weren't actually any tears falling. Trust me, I looked closely. It wasn't them. Harry will have already been informed that their look alikes have been murdered and they will have fled Grimmauld Place."

Draco let out a whistle as he watched Hermione closely.

"You had me worried, I must admit. How was she able to break the Fidelus charm, though?"

"She didn't. I already know of the whereabouts from the secret keeper, so her telling me wasn't breaking any rules. Rowle wasn't directly involved when she told us the name of the hiding place, but he was still near enough to hear her. I wouldn't have been able to tell Voldemort but Rowle solved that problem by butting in and shouting the location aloud."

"Brilliant," Draco said under his breath, feeling faint. "I thought you'd lost your mind or something."

"I'm sorry, but I think we'll be welcomed now."

Draco nodded, wanting nothing more than to vomit because of the nightmarish evening he'd just had, but Hermione turned on her heel and ran toward the bathroom, beating him to the punch.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- Sorry! School and building houses and what-not tend to get in the way! Also, this has not been read by my beta! If you see any mistakes please feel free to point them out to me.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Chapter Four**

 ** _Far away in this land I must go, out of the sight of the One. A punishment sent from his hand, a hardship no one should know. Now go out of the sight of the One. Away in this land you must go. Where has he gone? What have you done? A voice commands from high above this earth. From the soil his blood cries out to me.  
Murder, liar, vengeance, deceit_**

 ** _-Avenged Sevenfold – Chapter Four_**

November 18, 1995

Draco sat on the bench with his toast, watching Hermione approach with Harry. His three friends were behind the Gryffindor's a bit, but they had yet to notice. He watched as Blaise and Theo kept looking at the Gryffindor pair in confusion, but knew that Pansy wouldn't have been surprised at all. She had an assuredness about her that kept Draco grounded. Knowing Pansy wasn't judging him about his choices; that she agreed with him even, was enough to make him brave enough to do what he was about to do.

Hermione smiled as she got closer, taking an empty spot on the bench beside Draco and leaning into him automatically. He smiled at her and raised an arm around her shoulders comfortably, holding her to himself tightly and relishing in the uncomfortable look on Potter's face.

Draco threw his remaining piece of toast into the water and watched as one of the giant squid's tentacles reached up and wrapped around it, pulling it beneath the water as his Slytherin friends approached.

"Draco?" Blaise asked, stepping forward with a concerned look on his face. "I don't know what you're playing at, Mate, but I was trying to show you the paper this morning… it's about your father."

"I can wager a guess that I already know what's in the Prophet, Blaise, and that's one of the reasons we're all here right now. With my dear father out of the picture I feel a lot freer to do what I want to do… to be who I want to be."

Blaise Zabini stared at Draco as though he'd lost his mind. The boy had olive skin and black hair that was kept cropped tightly to his head, almost completely shaved off. He was tall and imposing, a striking figure in his black and emerald school robes, which matched his eyes almost exactly.

"What are you talking about?" Theo Nott asked weakly. He was the exact opposite of Blaise except for his height. He was tall and willowy, his straw coloured hair was a mess and stuck out from his head in small tufts. He was pale white, but had nothing on Draco, and had freckles dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. His pale blue eyes were narrowed and confused looking, taking in Draco's close proximity to Hermione.

"I think it's obvious," Pansy sighed, taking the spot on the other side of Draco and leaning back on one hand. She had grown to a startling 5'10", her hair had grown out to her waist and was black, flattering her pale skin and bright lips and eyes. She'd obviously had some work done to her nose, as it was more button shaped than resembling a pug. Hermione thought she was gorgeous.

"You're okay with this?" Theo snapped, gesturing avidly to Hermione, who was sitting with her chin held high and her shoulder nestled into Draco's armpit.

Harry hadn't been acknowledged.

"I don't think it's my place to say who Draco can and cannot date," Pansy said simply, examining her fingernails like she didn't have a care in the world. "If he's happy then I'm happy for him."

"Aren't you two to be betrothed?" Blaise asked in concern.

Pansy let out a giggle that had Hermione wishing she could come across as that dainty. "Of course not. That was all in Lucius' mind and now, like Draco said, that he's out of the picture, we have nothing to worry about."

"Pansy has had a boyfriend for years."

"Don't tell me it's Potter," Blaise groaned, finally acknowledging his presence.

Pansy giggled again and waved her hand dismissively.

"Would someone care to tell me what the hell is going on?" Theo asked.

"I'm wondering the same thing," Harry answered slowly, feeling uncomfortable and out of his depth surrounded by the Slytherin students.

Draco took a deep breath and settled himself more comfortably on the bench, gesturing to the others to find a place to sit. Hermione sat up and conjured small pouffe armchairs out of thin air and settled a warming charm over the group before fitting herself back under Draco's arm. Everyone looked a little grateful as they took their seats and Draco wasted no time launching into the story about Lucius' attack on the girl and the subsequent letters he had been sending her with little trophies.

"You got your father arrested?" Blaise asked in shock, his emerald eyes wide as he looked at Draco like he'd never met him before.

"It was the right thing to do," Draco snapped, not liking the insinuation that it wasn't.

"Of course it was," Pansy said sweetly from his other side. "Now I'm going to assume that the rest of this conversation is how we're going to proceed from here? I think it's abundantly clear that you aren't willing to join Voldemort, and let me just lay it right out there now and say I'm not either. I don't see any of us actually getting ahead by giving him our support, and let's be honest, he's using our parents for gold and power, nothing more. I have no interest in being led to my death in destitution when he loses the war."

"Is that why you're telling us this, Draco? You want us to know that you aren't going to follow him to the war?"

"Precisely," Draco answered, a small incline of his head. "I don't want it well known though, if I can get by without anyone suspecting the truth it'll be easier. I thought you guys deserved to know, though."

"So are you joining us, then?" Harry asked. He had taken in all the information and knew that he couldn't hate the other boy anymore, not after he'd saved Hermione and then stayed by her side when she needed someone. It hurt to know that Hermione had kept her attack from him, but she'd given him a tearful explanation about why she didn't want him to know that he had no choice but to accept. Especially when Draco had been sitting across from him, glaring at him furiously for making Hermione cry.

"No," Draco answered easily, and Harry noted that Hermione didn't look surprised by his answer. "I'll be lucky to stay neutral, to be honest, but joining you would be like signing over my own swift death. At least as a neutral I'll have a better chance of staying away from the dark ranks, but it's well known that the Dark Lord gets what he wants… if he finds me, at least he won't outright murder me for joining the light."

Hermione shuddered.

"Well, I'm going to follow Draco's lead and stay neutral," Pansy declared. "Not that he'd want me around as a Death Eater anyway, he only takes the positively insane females who would do anything for him and seems to be able to pin them from a mile away."

"It's easy for you to say, Pans, but my father has been a supporter since I was born, and while I always promised to have Draco's back I honestly never expected him to turn away from our heritage."

Blaise looked scandalized at the words Theo had dared to utter. "He's your best friend, Theo, and he's right. What the hell did Granger do to deserve what they did to her?"

Theo shrugged indifferently and got to his feet. "Was born, I guess."

Blaise watched with an open mouth as Theo walked away from the small group. He turned around after a few yards and marched back over to them. "I'll keep your secret, Draco, but that's where it ends for me. I will not turn my back on my family and heritage because of something done to someone I don't even care about."

"You care about Draco though, Theo. Please think about this," Pansy pled. She looked betrayed by the friend she had grown up with.

"Not enough," Theo muttered and turned his back on his friends.

"What a wanker," Blaise hissed as their long time friend walked away from them.

"I expected it," Draco admitted, rubbing Hermione's arm softly. "His father is almost as hardcore as mine and he didn't have an earth shattering revelation shoved under his face. He won't come around, either, he meant it when he said this was it for our friendship."

"I'm sorry," Hermione muttered. "I never wanted you to lose friends because of me."

"He wasn't a true friend to begin with if he can just walk away," Pansy said angrily as she stood from the bench and dusted off the seat of her robes. "I should get going though, I have a meeting with someone else that starts soon."

"Are you ever going to tell me who your boyfriend is?" Draco asked, genuinely curious.

"Maybe one day," she answered cheekily. "See ya Granger, Potter. Blaise."

Hermione and Harry watched Pansy go with surprised faces, they'd never thought they'd get along with the witch.

"So…" Blaise started, obviously feeling uncomfortable.

"Yeah," Draco answered, smiling slightly.

"So you're neutral?" Harry asked, obviously unable to contain himself. "Your girlfriend is on the light side and you're going to stay neutral?"

Draco and Hermione both reddened at the 'girlfriend' comment, but didn't say anything about it. "My mother is considered Dark, Potter, and I won't abandon her with them. She doesn't deserve it. Hell, the things she's been through for the sake of my life would probably make that messy hair of yours flatten so tightly to your skull you'd look bald, and I refuse to throw her away like that. She's the only person in my life who loves me."

"We can take care of her," Harry answered, sounding very much like Dumbledore.

"No, you can't. You think you can whisk us away and keep us alive, but you don't understand the power the Dark Lord possesses. Hell, he hasn't even been back a year and things are already bad again, don't you get it, Potter? If I leave, if I join the light, if I do anything more suspicious than stay neutral, he'd have our lives snuffed out quicker than you can think. That's why no one can know of the involvement I had with my father's arrest. The Dark Lord is going to be pissed about that."

"If you'd just let us help you – "

"Stop it, Harry," Hermione cut in suddenly. "He already said no and explained why, pushing him about it isn't going to do you any good, so cut it out. Respect his decisions."

Potter's words died on his lips as he watched Hermione stick up for Draco Malfoy. He knew right then and there he'd have to take things slower when trying to talk to the other boy, that he'd have to slowly convince him to switch sides, not just try and shove him in the right direction all at once.

"Well, as interesting as this has all been, I'm ready for a snack," Blaise said, getting to his feet and sauntering away.

"This seems too easy," Hermione whispered to Draco seconds before he pulled her to her feet.

"You should go with Potter, Hermione, and I should catch up with Blaise. We've been spending too much time apart lately and people are bound to start asking questions. I'll meet you in the library tonight, okay?"

"Sounds good," Hermione said, squeezing his hand before he took off after his friend.

July 13, 1996

 _My dearest,_

 _There's been a development that neither you nor the stag are going to like. Please meet with me at that café we went to in ML last week at 9:45 P.M. this evening. Hopefully we are able to figure out something to get through it._

 _Sincerely,_

Draco sat in the café him and Hermione had visited just the week before and waited for her to arrive with Potter. It had taken him what felt like forever to peel himself off the floor and make his way to his bedroom in his family home, his left arm searing with pain every time he moved it. He wrote Hermione and then had a bath, trying to make himself feel clean even though he felt anything but – he felt dirty and used. He could only hope Hermione wouldn't leave him once she saw the Dark Mark burned into his flesh.

"Draco," her sweet voice said as she crossed the linoleum tiles and sat next to him in a small, cramped booth. Potter took his time, heading toward the duo and taking a seat only after ordering coffees and scones.

"What's happened?" Potter asked after the waitress delivered their orders.

"I've been marked," Draco said, not seeing any point in beating around the bush. He dropped his eyes to his coffee, purposefully not looking at the two Gryffindor's. He didn't want to see the hate in their eyes.

Hermione sucked in a breath and turned to him so fast that her hair whipped him in the face. "What?" she asked, her hands clamped onto his upper arm. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" Draco asked in surprise, looking at up her with shock in his eyes. "I thought you'd hate me."

"We both know you didn't actually want this Malfoy. Tell us what happened," Potter said kindly, breaking off a piece of his scone and placing it in his mouth before he leaned forward on his elbows, interested in the story.

So Draco told them how his father, who had been broken out of Azkaban by Voldemort just weeks earlier, was back at the manor. Draco claimed he could barely even look at the man without wanting to murder him but told them that his father had cornered him and demanded that they speak alone.

"I figured he'd want to talk to me about the fact that he knew Hermione and I were spending time together during school. I was anticipating a serious thrashing for being a momentary blood traitor, I was not anticipating the Dark Lord being in my dungeon, waiting for me to be brought down."

"Oh, Draco," Hermione said, sniffling, and he could tell that she was crying.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tilting her face up by her chin and staring her in the eyes.

"Don't be sorry," Potter cut in, ruining their moment. "There's nothing to be done now but to move forward. What are you planning on doing?"

"Passing information to Hermione."

"I figured that would be your answer. You're still not interested in joining the Order officially?"

"No," Draco said curtly, and left it at that. He explained the threat on his mother to the two Gryffindor's and they listened closely, taking in the information with disturbed expressions on their faces.

"Will we see each other before we go back to school?" Hermione asked sadly.

"Preferably without Potter," Draco said, nodding.

Hermione giggled and Harry groaned, sometimes wishing he wasn't the only one out of their group of friend's privy to the information that Hermione Granger was dating Draco Malfoy.

"We better get back," Potter reminded Hermione, looking at the clock. They'd been gone for almost 45 minutes. "Ron is going to blow a gasket if he knows we've been gone together all this time."

"Weasel still has a thing for my girl, then?"

"Yes, and it's driving me absolutely batty," Potter admitted. "If I even spend ten minutes alone with her he's ready to lose his mind."

"I wish I could put him straight," Draco said longingly, then flinched in pain as his arm seared.

Hermione looked at him sadly, her doe-eyes suspiciously watery as she noticed his movement.

"Write me when you're available," she said, placing a soft kiss on his lips before turning away and following Harry from the café.

December 15, 2004

Hermione woke up with a startled gasp, her hand jumping to her throat as Draco rolled over beside her and gathered her up in his arms.

"It was a dream," he said sleepily, holding her body tightly to his like he'd done so many other times.

"I don't have a good feeling," Hermione admitted, rolling toward him and burying her head into his chest. "I don't think this is going to work out the way we were expecting. He hasn't even mentioned my parents again and we know for a fact that he has them in the dungeons. Why wouldn't he let them go free now that he has me here? He has me marked as one of his followers," she said bitterly, lifting her head back from Draco's chest and staring at her arm.

"I don't know what his plans are," Draco admitted, hating the feeling of letting his wife down. "I used to receive inside information and now I don't know anything ahead of time. He doesn't trust me at all and I don't know what to do to regain that trust."

"I don't know if there's anything you can do, truthfully. We're totally screwed. And where is Harry?! Why hasn't he looked for us? He knows where we are…"

"Hermione, the Manor has blood wards on it. Not to mention all the charms that the Dark Lord has put on the place to make it sure it stays impenetrable. Harry and the Order will have a very hard time finding us."

Hermione sighed and rolled away from him, heading for the bathroom. Ever since she'd been marked as a Death Eater she'd felt particularly dirty. An uncleanliness she'd never be able to get rid of. The mark on her arm and the stains on her soul from killing innocent people had made her feel like a different person, a _dark_ person, and she hated it all.

"Bathing isn't going to help, Hermione," Draco said as he entered the bathroom fully nude. He knew exactly what she was feeling but he also knew the only way to stop feeling so dirty was to stop feeling so bothered by it.

Hermione lowered herself into the tub full of hot water anyway, sighing as the heat relaxed her muscles. She cracked her eyelids and looked at her husband, standing before her in all of his naked glory. He was gorgeous, truly. He stood at a full grown height of 6'4", he'd grown at least six inches since they had first started dating. His eyes were still slate grey but sometimes appeared to be silver, depending on his mood, and his hair was still blond, but he'd lost some of the platinum look as he aged. His jaw was strong and covered in stubble from forgetting to shave the night before, Hermione longed to run her finger down his cheek and feel the coarse hairs there. Draco's body was strong and corded, the muscles standing out deliciously when he wasn't even doing anything but standing – he'd had to give up seeking in Quidditch in his sixth year because he just didn't suit the position any longer.

Hermione knew she wasn't too hard on the eyes either, though she was significantly shorter than her husband, standing at only 5'4", she was also very petite and her height suited her. Her hair was brown with reds, golds, and even some dark blonde strands added in to mix up the colour, depending on which light you were looking at her in. She had bowed lips that looked red as a ripe strawberry without even wearing any makeup and her brown 'doe-eyes', as her husband called them, were rimmed with thick, dark lashes. She had a button nose and perfect complexion and knew that when she stood beside her husband and people compared their looks that it made perfect sense why they were together.

"See something you like?" Draco asked cheekily.

"Always have to ruin it by opening that mouth of yours," Hermione answered, feigning disinterest as she settled into the tub further, the water sloshing around and splashing up her chest.

"Really?" Draco said, stepping into the tub quickly and sitting alarmingly close to Hermione's face. "You can do something with that mouth of yours that would certainly not ruin anything," he said, looking down at her with smouldering eyes.

Hermione snorted and pushed him away, making him slip deeper into the water and land on her, their bodies pressed together from their thighs up.

She sighed again, wondering if she should share her fears with her husband. She felt desperate and knew that something was going to happen.

"I shouldn't have brought you here," Draco whispered, his eyes only inches from her own. "It was a mistake and I'm sorry. I should have just let him kill me."

"Don't talk like that," Hermione admonished. "I would prefer to be here with you than you be dead somewhere without me even knowing. I wouldn't be able to handle that, Draco, honestly."

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you because I was selfish and brought you here."

"It wasn't selfish," Hermione started, but a knock on the door of their bedroom ceased her words in their tracks.

Draco let out another breath and stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his hips before leaving the bathroom and approaching the door.

"Who is it?" he asked before opening it, and whatever he heard on the other side must have been reassuring enough for him to open it.

Hermione didn't hear anything so she sat in the tub, trying to listen hard to see who had entered. She stood up and grabbed her robe, wrapping it around herself and tying the belt before she left to see who had entered.

Blaise stood in their room beside a shocked looking Draco.

"Get her out of here now, Draco" he said before turning around and spotting Hermione.

"How?" Her husband hissed menacingly. "We can't _Apparate_ out, we certainly can't just run down the halls and out the door!"

"I don't have any other advice but to get your things together, get dressed, and get out!" Blaise looked absolutely apoplectic. He had been forced into the ranks only a week or so before Draco, but had defected to the Order almost immediately. He was a good spy, though, and had never been suspected. This was just another example of how the Italian was always putting himself on the line for his friend.

"Why?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling cold even though she had just stepped out of an extremely hot bath.

Hermione, Draco, and Blaise all flinched at the same time and clutched their forearms. "It's too late," Blaise whispered, his eyes wild. "I'm sorry, I tried to get here sooner…"

"Blaise!" Hermione called, but he was already fleeing the room.

"What's happening?" she asked, turning to her husband who was pulling his clothes on quickly.

"I think he's going to tell us what he wants us to do with your parents," Draco said, looking hurt and ashamed at the thought.

"Oh God," Hermione said, pulling her clothes on with shaky hands. "It's not going to be good, is it? Is that why Blaise was in here? I know he's high ranking – he's been to enough Order meetings for me to understand his position here."

"It's not going to be good," Draco agreed, running a shaking hand through his short hair.

Hermione and Draco made their way to the ballroom as quickly as they could, both of them feeling sick to their stomachs about what was going to possibly take place.

"Welcome," Voldemort said as Draco and Hermione entered the room hand in hand, trying to put up a strong front so they wouldn't feel so intimidated by being in the large room of Death Eaters.

Hermione glanced around and saw her parents in chains just off of the dais that held Voldemort's throne and felt her heart constrict.

"I see you've spotted the point of our meeting today, Mrs. Malfoy," Voldemort said coldly. "I'd like to welcome Tom and Jane Granger. Tom," Voldemort spat, disgust in his voice. "Such a typical muggle name."

Hermione shared a small glance with Draco since they both knew that was actually Voldemort's name as well, but both of them wisely kept their mouths shut.

"Come forward, Mrs. Malfoy, I'm sure your parents would be more than happy to see their gorgeous daughter one last time."

Hermione didn't miss the inflection of Voldemort's words but stepped forward anyway. "They won't know who I am," she started to say quietly. Her mother started screaming her name, shocking Hermione to the core.

"Mum?!" Hermione called, rushing away from her Master and her husband toward her parents. "I don't understand," she cried, dropping to her knees in front of her parents and pulling them into tight hugs.

"You never tried to lift the enchantments, Mrs. Malfoy, but I believe that if you had you would have been successful – I've heard of your powers. I was able to do it myself after a few attempts, but I wasn't too worried whether they kept their minds or not, it was just a lucky chance that they did."

Hermione was crying so hard she barely heard what the Dark Lord was saying, and her parents were both crying into her shoulders, drowning out most of the noise the Death Eaters were making with their jeers.

Hermione was suddenly being pulled away from her parents ruthlessly and she tried to grip their hands, but only succeeded for a moment before being ripped away from their grasp.

"Mum! Dad!" she cried, feeling as though she had ropes on her back that continued to pull her away from her frightened parents. She tried fighting the invisible force but it was fruitless and she found herself right in front of the Dark Lord, who was laughing cruelly at her struggles.

Hermione looked for Draco through the tears on her lashes and could see him struggling with an invisible force as well, trying to get to her but being detained.

"Silence," Voldemort called, and it was as though someone had used a silencing spell on the entire room. "Draco, I think you should have the honours of ridding the world of these mudbloods."

"What?" Draco shouted. "No! I won't!"

"Don't make me force you, boy," Voldemort howled. Hermione looked between her parents and her husband with fear, knowing Draco wouldn't do it and would be tortured to death for it.

"I will not kill my wife's parents!" he yelled back, fuelled by adrenaline and fear. "I won't!"

Voldemort bent down and scooped Hermione into his arms in one fluid motion, holding her tightly against his body with one hand and his wand at her throat with the other.

"You will either do it or watch your wife pay the price."

Draco faltered and that was all it took for Voldemort to laugh cruelly again, loving the way he could use everyone around him like puppets. Draco was truly torn about what to do, he didn't think Hermione would forgive him if he killed her parents, whether she was to be tortured or not. He knew, though, that he would never be able to live with allowed Hermione, his loving wife, to be tortured in front of him. Not when he could do something to prevent it.

"Crucio," Voldemort said simply, letting go of Hermione's body so she fell to the floor brutally. Her head cracked off the stone before she started screaming in pain because the of the curse cast on her.

"Stop! Stop!" Draco yelled, trying to run forward to his wife again but was quickly held back by other Death Eaters. He tried to fight them off, punching one directly in the face and managing to elbow the other in the throat, but he only made it a few steps forwards before he was taken down with a trip jinx and more Death Eaters were swarming him, holding him back.

"Please stop hurting her!" he called in desperation, glancing over at the Granger's to see that they were cowering back in fear, watching what was playing out before them with no chance of helping.

"I will stop when you begin, Mr. Malfoy!"

"Okay I'll do it, just stop hurting her!"

Voldemort curled his face into what was probably supposed to be a smile and lifted the curse from Hermione, who continued to twitch on the floor for a few moments, her breath coming out in pained gasps as she tried to get a grip on herself. Voldemort picked her up again, pressing himself against her almost lewdly and Hermione used all of her strength to stop herself from vomiting when she felt an obvious pressure in the small of her back.

Of course the mad man would get off on this shit.

Hermione watched as Draco took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he moved toward her parents. He seemed to be trying to stall for time, even going so far as to apologize to them. Hermione wanted to yell to him to let them kill her, but knew it was pointless. If Draco didn't kill them then Voldemort would, and would probably kill Draco for disobeying, and then she'd be truly alone. They had thought they were playing a game when they entered the manor together the first time, and maybe they were, but they were definitely missing the rules.

Hermione could feel the energy swirling within her, desperately trying to break free of its confines, but she had never been good at wandless magic. She was desperate, scared, and disgusted by everything around her. When Voldemort had the balls to reach forward and touch her breast at the same time he rubbed himself against Hermione, her control snapped and a wave of magic shot out of her. The energy from the magic caused Voldemort to drop her and Draco to trip forward as the manacles around her parents' wrists and ankles broke into pieces.

Everyone was stunned for a moment before Hermione jumped to her feet and screamed, "Run!" at her parents and Draco, rushing toward them. Draco gripped her mum's hand for a moment before turning toward Hermione and stopping dead in his tracks, his eyes wide and scared.

Hermione froze, the force of the spell causing her to tip forward and slam into the floor face first.

"I was wondering when you were going to prove you had that fabled power, Mrs. Malfoy. Bravo."

Hermione was tipped onto her side and positioned so that she'd have a clear view of her parents, who were both huddled in the far corner, clearly terrified of the snake-like man before them.

"Finish them, Draco, or you can say goodbye to your wife right now. I'm done playing your games. Don't think I didn't notice you helping that mudblood off the floor!"

"She's my wife's mother, Sir, surely you won't make me do it."

"Do it!" Voldemort screamed, but he wasn't the only one to say it.

Draco turned toward Tom Granger with shock written on his features, did the man just demand that Draco kill him?

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry we never had the chance to meet since you're married to my Hermione, but if he's going to make you choose between our lives and hers, please pick hers. Don't get my baby killed."

"Enough!" Voldemort yelled, flicking his wand and causing a cut to appear on Tom Granger's face. Draco knew if he didn't kill both of her parents soon then they'd be tortured worse than they could even imagine.

He glanced down at his wife, immobile on the floor, and pressed his lips together with determination.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the couple cowering before him as he lifted his wand. He pointed it at them each in turn, the green light hitting them in the chest and causing them to fall to the floor, their eyes dimmed and their mouths opened slightly.

Hermione's screams echoed through the room, her immobilization lifting the second her parents' lives were taken.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

 **Buried Alive**

 ** _I walked the fields through the fire, taking steps until I found solid ground. Followed dreams reaching higher, couldn't survive the fall. Much has changed since the last time and I feel a little less certain now. You know I jumped at the first sign, tell me only if it's real._**

 ** _-Avenged Sevenfold – Buried Alive_**

August 10, 1999

Hermione was sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with Harry. Ron was off somewhere in the house moping about something and Ginny had been forced back to the Burrow with her parents for a few days.

She was just going to open her mouth to talk about the places they'd decided the Horcruxes were hidden – Bill had already promised to use his weight at Gringotts to search some of the known followers of the Dark Lord's vaults, but a crack of apparition stopped her. She swung around on the bench quickly, shocked to see her boyfriend kneeling on the floor by the fireplace, his head in his hands as his shoulders shook with sobs.

"Draco?" she asked, getting to her feet quickly, but Harry put a hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

"What's happened, Malfoy?"

Draco didn't answer and Hermione shook herself free of Harry and approached her boyfriend. Kneeling before him she was shocked to see that he had tears streaming down his cheeks. His entire body was shaking with the effort he was using to stifle his sobs and his fingers were clasped into his blonde hair tightly.

"Can you please go find Ron, Harry? Give us a few minutes, here, okay?"

Harry nodded and took his leave tactfully.

"What's happened, Draco?" Hermione asked, forcing herself into his space. He dropped his hands but kept his head bowed, the tears dripping from his chin and the tip of his nose as harsh sobs broke through the air. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, allowing him to hold her tighter than he ever had before, like he was being thrown around in an ocean and she was the only thing keeping him afloat.

Hermione let him sob into her shoulder, holding him tightly as his tears soaked through her shirt. She was alarmed by his behaviour but he was too distraught to say anything. She was whispering encouraging words to him but it still took him a long time to calm down.

"They killed my mother," he said in a hoarse voice, 20 minutes after appearing in the safe house.

Hermione let out a horrified gasp and leaned back in order to look into his stormy eyes, she could see the truth reflected there, his lashes damp and clinging together to make small spikes.

"Oh, Draco," she said, trying to keep her composure. It was a hard thing to manage when one's boyfriend was having a breakdown. "Why?"

Draco shrugged before getting to his feet, knocking Hermione off his lap unceremoniously as Harry and Ron finally re entered the room.

"I'm ready to join you," Draco spat at Harry immediately.

"Join the Order?" Harry asked in confusion. He'd been trying to get Draco to see that they could offer him more for years and Draco had been adamant that he wanted no part.

"As an official spy," Draco snarled, running his hands through his hair angrily.

Harry blinked.

"What's brought on this sudden change of heart?" He asked slowly, looking at Draco suspiciously.

"My mothers murder," Draco said, his voice cracking slightly at the end. He turned to Hermione looking lost and desperate, and she took his hand and led him from the room while Harry and Ron burst into muttering speculation.

"Let's go lay down for a bit," she suggested, leading Draco to her bedroom. She had no idea how to calm someone down after such an ordeal, but she'd try her best.

"I didn't care when my father died," Draco admitted to Hermione once they were in her room with a strong silencing spell in place. "He deserved it."

Hermione kept her mouth closed. She had plenty of opinions of Lucius Malfoy, but she wasn't going to lay them on her boyfriend during such a hard time.

"He was a piece of shit, but my mother was nothing of the sort. Her only worry was my happiness and me staying alive. She put herself on the line for me time and time again and I wasn't able to help her when she needed it the most."

Draco's voice cracked again and he looked away sharply, not wanting to seem weak to Hermione.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" she asked him softly, reaching forward and letting her fingertips rest gently against his shaking back.

"I didn't follow the rules of the Dark Lord's game," Draco said fiercely. "He wanted me to ruthlessly torture and murder a muggleborn – she reminded me of you when we were 16, when I found you in the forest. Even her big eyes were brown and staring and I could tell she was terrified. It made me feel sick. All I could think about was you laying on the ground, fearful as you looked at my face and realized who I was – plus the girl had already been raped, probably numerous times, and she was cowering away from me like I was going to attack her as well. Voldemort wanted me to, but I couldn't do it. She was you, Hermione. You when we were 16 and that's all I could think about and I wanted to vomit with the implications of it all, with the people I was surrounded with and I'm _just like them_ , Hermione."

"You're not," Hermione started, but Draco wasn't interested in listening to her words. He'd started his story and he was desperate to finish it before he broke down again.

"Once the Dark Lord and his most faithful servants realized I wasn't going to follow orders things went downhill quickly. I remember they took me aside, forced me into a different room, and were converging around me to punish me correctly. Voldemort came in and forced them all back so he could dole out his punishments himself and they all left the room slowly, trying to hang back to see what he was going to do to me, but he shared a look with my aunt Bellatrix and she grinned – I should have known then that something awful was going to happen. Voldemort circled me, telling me that I've been disappointing him more often than not for years and he would have to do something drastic to show me that I needed to start following orders better.

"Bellatrix came back in with my mother in tow, gripping her wrist tightly as they entered the room. I knew then that the Dark Lord was going to do something to her to show me that I needed to remember my place. I remember yelling at him to leave her out of it, to leave her alone and just do what he needed to do to me instead, but he gave me a cold smile and said "You'll never learn that way, Draco," and he turned away quickly. Bellatrix was laughing wildly as curse after curse shot at my mother, dropping her to her knees as she trembled and cried out in pain and fear. I was trying to get to her but someone had frozen me in place – I was shouting but that was it."

"Draco," Hermione said, moving around the bed and wiping the tears off of his cheeks. "This isn't your fault."

"I didn't think he'd actually kill her," Draco admitted, plowing on with his story and ignoring Hermione. "I thought they'd just hurt her a bit and scare me into doing their bidding, but he didn't. He told me that I better start doing everything in my power to please him or I'll be next. I asked him to kill me, Hermione, and I'm sorry I did that but I could barely think clearly."

Hermione felt for a moment that she'd been slapped. Draco had asked Voldemort to kill him along with him mother, not thinking about her in the slightest. She didn't say anything.

"He told me he would but he needs me… I'm still not sure what he meant by that."

"He needs you?"

Draco shrugged and pulled Hermione down onto his lap, resting his chin on her head. He was feeling calmer, now, even though his chest still felt empty. They sat like that for a long while, thinking about what had happened and what would continue to happen in the future – Draco would need to be a Death Eater, all in, or he'd most likely be murdered. Hermione was feeling extremely cold at the thought.

Their silencing charm had worn off and Harry knocked on the door before entering, wanting to speak to Draco about his plans to join them before he went back to his master.

November 19, 2001

"Harry finally managed to get rid of the damn tapestry," Hermione told Draco in their bed that night. He was tense and Hermione was trying to soothe him – he'd had to go on a raid with the Death Eaters the night before and it had been a horrific experience, and sadly not his first.

"I can't stay tonight," Draco said after a few minutes of silence. "I want to be able to stay with you at least a day or so after the wedding and if I keep staying away it won't look good. I feel like some people are already getting suspicious about my lack of enthusiasm to stay within my own home."

Hermione nodded sadly, knowing it made sense.

"I'm not sure when I'll be able to make it back here, but I'm going to make a big production about feeling ill for a few days before I come so I have a reason to be out of the picture for a couple days."

"Okay," Hermione whispered, her arms tightening around Draco's muscular body. She didn't want him to leave, ever, but unfortunately it was just the way it had to be. They knew this when they started their relationship 6 years earlier. Draco would have never been able to keep himself out of Voldemort's ranks without being on some sort of list.

Draco let Hermione hold onto him for a few more minutes before slowly extracting himself from her and getting to his feet heavily. He looked tired and Hermione felt guilty. He was stretching himself thin trying to appease Voldemort while also keeping the Order in the loop and spending secret, stolen time with her.

"I love you," he whispered, his eyes lighting up for a moment as he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips. "I can't wait until you're my wife."

Hermione smiled shyly and returned the sentiment as Draco stood tall and disappeared from her bedroom in one smooth moment.

December 4, 2001

Hermione stood across from Draco in the closest thing she had to a wedding dress – a white sundress that she wore when it was blazing hot during the summer. It was embroidered on the hem but was really nothing special. Her hair was down in soft curls – the way her hair usually looked, to be honest, and her face was sporting just a touch of makeup.

Draco thought she'd never looked better. He himself was wearing a silk button up shirt that matched his eyes and black dress pants. His hair was slicked back – not as severely as he'd worn it when he was a child – and his cheeks were a little bit pink.

He was nervous as hell.

Harry and Ron stood in front of them, Harry being the actual officiator as he read lines from an old book Hermione had found in the library of Grimmauld Place. Apparently as long as one could read, they could officiate weddings in the wizarding world. Blaise, who had become another spy for the order only weeks after Draco, stood slightly behind him with his girlfriend, Pansy. It was a shock to Draco when they finally admitted they'd been dating and Pansy said they hadn't wanted people to know in school because Theo was nursing a serious crush for her and Blaise didn't want to make their friendship strained. Since Theodore had turned his back on his friends with the revelation of Draco and Hermione's relationship they were a lot more comfortable sharing their relationship with their closest friend.

The wedding vows were simple and they hadn't written their own, just repeated after Harry as they exchanged rings that neither of them would really be able to wear freely – not until the war was over, anyway.

They sealed it with a kiss and Hermione felt complete joy and happiness well up within her upon the contact. Draco Malfoy was finally her husband. She was a wife. Draco's wife. Her last name automatically changed to Malfoy upon the kiss because of the wizarding traditions but she was glad to note that she didn't really feel all that different.

"Congratulations," Ron and Harry both said, patting the new husband and wife on the back before giving them their space.

"See you later, mate," Blaise said, grinning at Draco as he slapped him on the back.

"Thanks for the invite, Hermione," Pansy added, smiling.

"Of course!" Hermione said graciously. She really did like Pansy and Blaise and was glad that Draco could have a couple friends attend as well. She sometimes felt that it was unfair how much time they spent with her friends.

"I'm sorry this is all I could give you," Draco said a little sadly as he held her in his arms. "I know women all dream about their future weddings and how perfect they'll be."

"This was perfect," Hermione assured, smiling up at him. "I don't need a huge wedding with tons of guests, Draco, I just need you."

Draco smiled softly, his pupils blowing open in lust as he bent down and captured her lips roughly with his own, lifting her legs around his waist so she straddled him as he practically ran to her bedroom.

December 20, 2004

It had been 5 days of pure hell for Draco and Hermione. After he was forced to take her parents' lives he was taken away and sent on a raid with the other Death Eaters, searching for the Order since Voldemort's attack on Grimmauld Place was fruitless.

They'd come up empty handed and Draco was sent back to his grieving wife. She was laying in the dark, the curtains drawn on the sun that was shining weakly through the cold December air and the blankets on the bed were pulled up around her shoulders tightly. She was laying on her side and Draco approached her slowly, worried she'd hate him for what he'd done.

He sat beside her and watched as her eyes fluttered. They were red and swollen, her nostrils rough with the usage of facial tissues.

"You should have killed me," she said after a moment of silence, and Draco felt a shiver crawl up his spine. "You should have killed me, Draco," she said again, her voice cracking.

"I couldn't," he admitted, swallowing hard. "I could never take your life, Hermione. It might be selfish but there's no way I could do that, and to top it all off, if I had killed you instead the Dark Lord would have killed me and your parents anyway. At least this way we're still alive. I understand what you're feeling, I really do, but I did what I thought was right."

"What's the point of being alive if we're stuck in this life, anyway?" she asked bitterly, swiping at her nose roughly. "We're never going to get out of here, I can feel it."

"We haven't seen Harry or Ron since we left Grimmauld place, I'm sure they're getting worried and will probably come to help us soon. You know how they are. Not everything is lost, Hermione, but you've got to get up. I know how hard it is to have your parents murdered and I know it completely breaks you down, but we've got to be strong. We need to be a united front."

"I know you killed them because you thought it was best, but I just… looking at you is hard."

Draco dropped his hand that was going to brush her hair back from her face, feeling a cold, stabbing pain in his heart at her words.

"I did what I thought was right," he reiterated, getting to his feet slowly and backing away from her. "I'm sorry. I can never tell you how sorry I am, but I would do it again."

"You'd do it again?" Hermione asked angrily, sitting up in the bed in one fluid motion. "What if it was me that killed Narcissa all those years ago?!"

"If we were in the same position, and you were ordered to kill me or my mother and my mother was begging you to take her life over mine and you listened… I'd understand. I never wanted to be in this position and I hope to Merlin you are never put into it, because I'd obviously want you to kill me too, but you'll never understand how hard and awful it was for me to have to do that. I love you, and your parents loved you, and that's why your father was begging me to take their lives over yours. I hope you can understand one day."

Draco left her then, hoping his words would make her understand everything as he walked down the hallway to a spare bedroom. He planned to leave her alone until she could come to terms with what happened. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go, but she wouldn't allow that until she was clear on the situation he had been in.

Hermione came to him a few days later, her eyes no longer puffy, even though her nose was still slightly red. Draco was showering and jumped in surprise when he turned around to see his small wife standing behind him in the stall.

"I'm sorry," she said before he could say anything at all. "I'm obviously upset that my parents are dead, that I'll never get to see them again, but you're right. You were in a completely awful position and it was unfair of me to say that."

"It wasn't unfair, Hermione," Draco assured, rinsing the soap off his body before switching her sides so she could be under the hot water. "I expected nothing more than your anger, to be honest. I think anyone would be angry about what had taken place and that's why I gave you some space so you could come to terms with it. I'm the one who is sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she said, standing perfectly still as the water weighed down her hair. "I would have picked you too," she said honestly after a moment.

"I'll pick you every single time," Draco said, his grey eyes piercing her.

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded before closing her eyes and tilting her head back so the water could get all of her hair wet.

"I'll pick you too."

/

It wasn't until later that evening that Hermione and Draco's marks burned, signalling to them that Voldemort was expecting their presence.

"What could he possibly want?" Hermione asked groggily. She and Draco had been drowsing on their bed after an afternoon of lovemaking, enjoying in each others bodies after being apart for a few days.

Draco shrugged and rolled away from her, pulling on his clothes slowly as she followed suit.

They entered the ballroom hand in hand, surprised to see that there were a few other Death Eaters present. The 'Inner circle', as Voldemort referred to them. Usually it was only Bellatrix with the madman, so Hermione and Draco were instantly put on their guards.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Tom said, inclining his head and ignoring Draco, who had his hand rested on his wand. "Get up here," he spat.

Hermione swallowed nervously and turned to Draco with an eyebrow raised. She hadn't been called to Voldemort's side without him and she was scared, but he mouthed "play the game," to her and she gave him a tight nod before moving forward and dropping to her knees.

"Have you ever wondering how I became so powerful?" Voldemort asked conversationally, taking a seat on his throne at the front of the room and gesturing to Bellatrix, who immediately joined him and sat on the floor beside him. His hand dropped into her wild curls and Hermione couldn't help but to mentally compare her to a loyal dog.

"Yes, sir," Hermione answered truthfully, wondering where he was going with this line of conversation.

"Cannibalism, Mrs. Malfoy. I know you and your worthless friends know all about my horcruxes, and I also know they've been destroyed, but what you don't understand is that in the process of making horcruxes I'm also gaining power."

Hermione's heart was pounding as she licked her suddenly dry lips. "What do you mean, sir?" she asked quietly.

Draco wanted to yell at her to stop talking, stop asking questions, and back away slowly, but the other members of the inner circle had moved forward and held onto him tightly, glaring at him with the warning to keep his mouth shut as they removed his wand from his grip.

"Do you know the process of making a horcrux?"

"Not specifically, Sir. I know the heart has something to do with it. Maybe eating it? Like I said, I don't recall everything specifically."

Voldemort leered for a moment, his lipless mouth turning up in a smile that chilled Hermione to the very core.

"Let me explain," he whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

 **Acid Rain**

 ** _Our day has come, it's drawn in the sky, so don't shed a tear now, be thankful for the time._**

 ** _Life wouldn't be so precious dear if there never was an end._**

 ** _Children still play in the garden, dance as the sun slips away._**

 ** _We stand on the edge now, we've come so far. Through all the dust it becomes clear you will always be my heart._**

 ** _There's no death, no end of time when I'm facing it with you._**

 ** _Children still play in the garden, dance as the sun slips away, not even stars last forever. Cleanse us acid rain._**

 ** _Stand near to me. Don't look be brave. Over the blackened moon. I'll carry you away. Through the planets we fly._**

 ** _Children still play in the garden, dance as the sun slips away, not even stars last forever. Cleanse us acid rain._**

 ** _Send us home_**

 ** _-Avenged Sevenfold – Acid Rain_**

A/N- Now I know I don't usually do this, but I would like to suggest listening to the above song while reading this chapter because I do feel like this really sets the tone for the chapter. And also, I have planned on using this song for the final chapter since I started this story. I really want to thank everyone for following and favourite this work of mine, as well as everyone who has taken a moment to review. I appreciate it.

ALSO TW! Torture, cannibalism, character death.

November 30, 2004

Harry watched Hermione and Draco disappear into thin air, fear twisting his insides for one of his best friends.

"It'll be fine," Ron quavered, staring at the spot Hermione had disappeared. "She's tough and Malfoy would never let anything bad happen to her."

"How can you be so sure?" Ginny asked. She had just learned of Hermione's marriage to the Malfoy heir, so she'd had a lot less time to actually trust the git than anyone else.

"He loves her," Harry stated as he pushed his rounded spectacles up on his nose. "He would die to keep her safe."

December 9, 2004

Harry was sitting beside the fire with an opened, half-full firewhiskey bottle grasped loosely in his hand. He was staring at the flames, lost in thought, when Ginny let out an exaggerated breath and approached him. The flames were flickering off his glasses and the look in his eyes – so tired and stressed– made her sad.

"Harry?" she asked timidly, perching herself on the arm of his chair.

Harry let out a breath and turned to look at Ginny, the empty bottles beside his feet tinkering with the sudden movement.

"Something is very wrong," he said in response. "We haven't heard from either Draco or Hermione. We should have, rightly, heard from them the day after they left."

"What do you think has happened?" Ginny asked, secretly terrified but trying to keep herself emotionless.

"I don't know, Ginny," Harry snapped. "Obviously something and it's our fault for letting her go! We never should have let her go anywhere with Draco."

"We didn't let her do anything, Harry," Ginny argued, offended that Harry was trying to put the blame for the possibility of something going wrong on their shoulders. "She's an adult and he is her husband!"

"We should have heard from them," Harry repeated, leaning back and taking a swig from the bottle in his hand.

"Maybe they're just busy," Ginny replied, trying to sound upbeat.

"I think I'm going to send in the clones of Remus and Tonks," Harry replied rather suddenly. "I don't know why I didn't think of it until now, but at least that might give us an idea of what's going on over there."

"Where are Fred and George?"

"In their apartment. I need you to Floo them."

"It's late, Harry! They're probably asleep."

"This can't wait until morning, Gin. We need to ensure Hermione and Draco are safe."

"And if they aren't? It's not like we can go storming over there, Harry! If we could do that this war would have been finished years ago! We already know where they are. What will sending in decoys give us that we don't already have?!" She shook her head, auburn tendrils falling across her face. "It won't make a damn bit of difference."

Ginny was worried that if they realized Hermione and her husband were in danger that Harry would get on his usual one-track mind and everything would go to shit. It was valid, considering how often Harry blindly ran into danger in order to "do the right thing".

"Go get them, Ginny, please."

And that broke her. Harry looked so sad, so lost, that she knew she wouldn't be able to deny him his one request. With a deep breath she stood and took out her wand. Turning into the pressing feeling of apparition.

December 10, 2004

"Here they come," Harry whispered in excitement, looking into the pool of water in the barrel between him and everyone else. The spell that Fred and George used to watch the events through the eyes of the clones they had made was taken from the idea of scrying. They could see everything through the eyes of Tonks' clone as though they were there themselves.

"She looks upset," Ginny noted, taking in the red, puffy eyes of her friend. "And Draco looks downright miserable."

"Holy hell, Harry...those bruises...what have they done to her?" Ron's strained voice was high; his fists were white and clenched.

"Look at Malfoy, he looks like he's about to vomit on the floor," George pointed out sadly.

The group watched with wide eyes as Hermione ruthlessly threw the killing curse at the clone, her eyes especially manic for a moment.

Fred let out a low whistle and turned to his friends, looking unsure.

"We need to get them out," Harry said hoarsely, followed by nods of agreement.

December 15, 2004

The group had been sitting around a scrubbed oak table for five days without pause. They took breaks only to sleep. They had been scheming and plotting to find a way to break the wards around Malfoy Manor so they could rescue their friend. Ginny wondered why they hadn't put this much planning into entering the manor to kill Voldemort, but figured that thought was better left unvoiced.

Progress was slow the first few days, but as Order members popped by they were convinced to stay and help plan, understanding that the war would be coming to an unanticipated close fairly soon.

Harry gripped the arm of his chair harshly suddenly, leaning forward and staring at everyone intensely. He had Ginny's attention and she turned to him in curiosity, wondering what had his attention.

"Something horrible has happened," he said aloud, seemingly surprised by the words leaving his mouth. "I don't know how I know, but I swear it's true. My scar hurts and I just...know." His face reddened but his expression dared anyone to disagree.

"We need to figure this out, Harry. There has to be a way."

December 19, 2004 – Order of the Phoenix

Days had passed slowly, too slowly. Harry could barely handle sitting around doing nothing and was tempted to just go to Malfoy Manor and throw stones at the boundaries. It wouldn't do the tiniest bit of good, but least he would feel he was doing something.

It was nearing dawn on the 20th of December when Neville Longbottom jumped from his chair, snapping his fingers as though he had just figured out the riddle. Everyone was silent, looking at him not with hope, but exhausted resignation.

"House elves!"

Maybe he had figured it out, after all.

December 20, 2004

Voldemort rose and began pacing in front of his throne, Bellatrix watching his every move from the floor. Hermione was also transfixed as he started recounting how horcruxes were actually made.

"I know that young, brave souls who fight for the Order, such as yourselves, have no idea what it actually entails to make a horcrux, so forgive me for a moment while I try to explain." He twirled his wand in his fingers, as if thinking. "It all comes down to the acts, you see. Anyone — well, anyone who is brave enough," he said, a strange breathy laugh punctuating his words, "can kill someone. However, that alone is too crude. No finesse. No power. The simple act of killing will not create a horcrux. No, Mrs. Malfoy, in order to create a horcrux you need a powerfully magical ritual. It requires a faithful vassal, if you will. Bravery in the wizard, bravery in the servant, who must be willing to die for you. You obtain their permission to use their body and soul to further your cause, further your ambition. Of course, it's plenty easy to get permission with the Imperius curse or just plain torture, but I feel much better about getting it without having to go to such measures. There is something inherently more powerful about getting the permission from someone of a sound mind." Voldemort stopped suddenly and Hermione watched him curiously. He seemed to be focused on something in the distance.

Draco felt the change as well, being a Malfoy he could still feel when wards on the manor were altered. Someone had gotten through the wards at the edge of the property. Harry, no doubt, though he had no idea how they had finally managed it. He was about to scream to Hermione that they were about to be saved when all rational thought flew from his mind.

"I think it would be best if I showed you, actually," Voldemort said, leering down at Hermione's small frame.

Draco went ice cold.

"No," he shouted, unable to stop himself. The next second he was on his knees as pain ripped through his body, causing him to cry out.

"Show me?" Hermione asked as calmly as she could, trying to block out Draco's guttural screams as she focused on Voldemort, whose gleaming red eyes were fixed on hers.

"I'll need your permission first, of course," he said, as if her willingness to allow the crazy man to eat her heart was a foregone conclusion.

Hermione couldn't help but to snort out a laugh of incredulity. "I won't give you permission," she said, hoping she was coming across braver than she felt.

"I'm sure I can persuade you," he leered gesturing to his men to bring Draco closer. They picked him up and deposited him on the stone stairs at Voldemort's feet.

Voldemort pointed his wand at her husband and Hermione heard a bone in his body snap abruptly, his breath coming out in harsh grunts as he swayed on the spot. Hermione paled as she realized one of the bones of his arm was sticking out through the skin. Draco was clutching his broken arm to his chest tightly as a sob tore from his throat, blood soaking the arm of his robes quickly.

"There are 205 more bones in his body, Mrs. Malfoy," Voldemort said lovingly, "and I can do this all night."

"Don't," Draco grated out and Hermione knew he was speaking to her and not the Dark Lord. "Don't do it."

Hermione wanted to cry because she truly didn't know what to do. She screamed as Voldemort pointed his wand at her husband again and caused another bone to snap, this time in his leg, and Draco cried out with pain again as he collapsed onto the stone floor. His breathing was ragged and Hermione was horrified at the sight he made.

"Not worth it," her husband grunted, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

The unnaturally long fingers waved the wand again, and Draco's robes vanished, a large gash appearing on his stomach and chest, ripping roughly through the skin as he dropped onto his back, the cut spurting out so vigorously that Hermione feared a vital injury. Draco was breathing roughly, his breaths coming out in pants as he struggled to rise.

"If you can't simply agree to help me, my dear, I will be forced to have you sit here on your knees and watch your husband die a torturous and slow death."

Draco met her eyes again, defiance shining through them despite the immense pain he was in, but just as he had done to her parents for her, Hermione knew that she would give herself up for her husband without much question.

"I don't want to hurt him, believe me." A deep gash appeared across his face, this time, and a sharp scream punctured the silence.

"You'll let him live?" Hermione asked, her voice wavering as she asked the question.

"I won't kill him," Voldemort assured, showing her his rotted teeth in what she supposed was a smile. "You have my word."

"No!" Draco yelled again, his voice rough with pain. "Don't do it, Hermione."

Hermione turned away from Voldemort and looked at Draco sadly, tears pooling in her eyes and blurring her vision before they broke free and rushed down her cheeks. She glanced at Voldemort before approaching her husband, who was still bleeding heavily on the floor.

"Draco, I love you. I'm not going to let you die this way when I can give myself up and die quickly." He pressed her shaking hand to his chest as she traced her fingers over his face, ignoring the blood and his wince of pain. I want you to know that even though we were apart for **so** long I would never want to change what we have. You're everything to me, the world, and I'm glad I got to spend **so** many years of my life with someone I love more than anything. You're really amazing. I'm sorry."

Draco was crying openly now, fat tears streaming down his cheeks as he hugged her tightly to his body with his intact arm. "Don't do this," he pleaded, his voice shaking and rough. "Please don't do this, Hermione. Let him kill me instead."

"It's just like the situation with my parents, Draco," Hermione answered slowly. "It's my turn to ensure you stay alive. Just please… don't leave me until I'm done. Stay with me until the end." Hermione placed a sweet, lingering kiss on Draco's trembling lips before stepping away and approaching Voldemort. "Let's get this over with," she answered, her body shaking with fear of the unknown.

"Hermione, no!" Draco called, sobs ripping from his chest as Voldemort helped her onto a previously covered table, restraining her ankles and wrists on the to the wood tightly.

Bellatrix was practically salivating at the thought of killing her least-favorite Mudblood and Draco crawled forward, determined to stop Hermione from doing something so foolish.

"Please," he whispered again, watching his wife allow the Dark Lord to strap her down tightly. She was taking deep, steadying breaths and he could see her fingers shaking slightly in their bonds. "Don't give yourself up for me," he pled, feeling a hopelessness steal over him as she shut her eyes softly, her decision made.

"I love you," she said again, her voice surprisingly steady. "I don't regret my decision."

Voldemort turned to Draco and shot him a victorious sneer before he took an ancient-looking, long dagger from his robes. It was covered in glowing runes and he gave Bellatrix a smoldering look before turning to Hermione and cutting her robes down the middle of her chest, ridding her of them as he exposed her naked body to the other Death Eaters in the room.

Draco felt possessiveness and rage cloud his senses for a moment as the other men leered at his wife's bared breasts, and he tried to get to his feet so he could shield her body from the men in the room, but his broken leg wouldn't support his weight and he was already lightheaded from blood loss, causing him to fall to the floor roughly, feeling both betrayed and humiliated simultaneously.

He heard Hermione take a sharp, steadying breath and looked over to realize that Voldemort was beginning the spell, his knife dragging across her chest gently, almost a loving caress, at first.

"You thought he didn't know you were dating the mudblood from the very beginning?" Bellatrix taunted, distracting Draco from his wife for a moment. He shook his head at his aunt and pulled himself across the floor laboriously, reaching Hermione's side and gently taking her hand as Voldemort worked around him.

"You think your father didn't tell him the second he realized what was happening!? He sold you out in an instant," Bellatrix taunted, moving closer to the table so she could speak to Draco and watch what was occurring. "The Dark Lord was furious at first, but decided to string you along for a while before he killed you. Then he found out about the prophecy that told of her strength and how important she was to him."

"That doesn't make sense," Draco whispered, trying and failing to not let his aunt get to him. "The prophecy wasn't made until years after I started dating her."

"Wrong," Bellatrix sang, her voice giddy as Hermione suddenly screamed in pain behind Draco. He turned around in surprise and saw that Voldemort's knife was going much deeper than it had before, cutting through her breastbone and separating her ribs slowly as she cried out.

Draco started crying again too, knowing there was nothing he could do to help her.

"The Dark Lord was given that prophecy years ago, you were in your final years at Hogwarts. He figured out who it was about only a few months after he was made aware that you were dating her, which is why he kept you alive for so long. He knew that at some point in the future he'd be able to manipulate it so that you'd bring her here."

Draco couldn't believe his ears. He'd been played for years upon years, all so Voldemort could get them together under his roof.

"He was surprised to learn that you'd married her years ago, though," Bellatrix added as an afterthought. "He was waiting for it for years and just assumed you'd slip up and let the secret out. No one thought about the tapestry until I bumped into it in the library. Imagine our surprise to learn that you had already married the girl. You sealed her fate with those vows, boy."

Draco shook his head, trying to drown out Hermione's pained cries behind him. He didn't want to look at her, he was scared about what he would see, but he couldn't help it when his eyes darted in her direction. Her chest was opened completely, her ribs cranked back grotesquely, as her pounding heart beat, nestled between her still expanding lungs.

"The prophecy said that she would help him," Bellatrix said, smiling smugly. "He was the only one who realized what it meant...that once he acquires her powers on top of his own he will be unbeatable."

Draco couldn't help the vomit that spewed from his mouth. There were too many horrific things happening at once for him to keep it down any longer. His wife was being ripped apart beside him, screaming harshly, his body was broken and useless, and his aunt was telling him that his wife's death was basically his own fault. Hermione's screams were echoing in his head, consuming him whole as he bled for the pain she must be feeling.

He turned toward her again, shocked and disgusted with himself for letting her go through with it, wanting to do something, anything, to stop the pain she was in, even if that meant killing her himself and stopping the Dark Lord from making a new horcrux with her death, with the consumption of her heart. He saw that Bellatrix was distracted for the moment, telling off one of the underlings for daring to step on the raised dais, and Draco took advantage of the moment. He used his intact arm to pull himself to his feet, Voldemort beside him still chanting the spell and completely focused on Hermione as he extended his hand, brandishing the knife toward her heart. Draco was quick, quicker than he had any right to be considering the blood loss he had suffered, and he ripped the pointed dagger from the Dark Lord's hand.

But Voldemort didn't stop chanting, he didn't break the spell even for a second, and as Draco raised the knife to plunge into his wife's neck, her closed eyes not even realizing something was happening, he was thrown away from her roughly, searing pain ripping through his skin as the knife fell from his limp hand.

He landed a few feet away, knowing all was lost. He had experienced that pain before, after all, in the girls' bathroom when he was sixteen. The only difference was Harry Potter had been the caster and the teenager had been unsure of himself.

Bellatrix was anything but unsure, and the pain Draco felt was almost unbearable. Especially considering he had landed on his broken leg. His vision swam dangerously for a moment, black pressing in on the edges of his vision, but he still crawled back toward his wife.

He managed to get himself up three of the stairs before Bellatrix cackled and turned to Hermione, who was strapped onto the table and shaking uncontrollably. The Dark Lord continued his chanting, reaching forward with his bare hands to rip her heart from her body so he could quickly consume it while it still beat, transferring her power to him. He would then need to transfer his broken piece of soul into an inanimate object, thus creating a new horcrux.

Draco wondered if the wards to the house could have been breached, hoping Harry and gang would break in and save them at the last moment as he turned away from his aunt's outstretched wand, looking at Hermione as everything seemed to slow down. Draco watched as Voldemort ripped her heart out with his bare hand. The madman lifted the organ to his face, blood dripping off of it and down his forearms grotesquely as he opened his disgusting mouth and starting devouring it. Draco looked down at Hermione in complete denial, hoping to see her hop off the cot and slap her hands together a few times, claiming it to be over.

She was completely limp and he noticed belatedly that her screams had stopped piercing the room. Her hands weren't straining in their bonds anymore and her eyes were opened, staring at the ceiling sightlessly.

Draco let out a sob of disbelief as he watched Voldemort finish eating as though this were simply a delicacy he was enjoying immensely. He turned to Draco as he swallowed the last bite, a manic smile growing on his face as blood painted his lips and chin. He then turned his wand to the necklace containing Hermione's engagement and wedding rings, pulling it from her neck and forcing the piece of soul into the jewellery. One last stab at Draco as he watched his family heirlooms take in pieces of the soul willingly – he knew that he, along with Harry and Ron, would never destroy something so sentimental to Hermione.

Draco collapsed onto the floor, his body giving up as he continued to cry aloud, not wanting to look at his wife's vacant eyes for even one more second.

"Stop it," the Dark Lord snapped at Draco. Being someone who didn't understand love he really didn't see why the younger man was making such a big fuss, but then, he'd acted the same way when his mother was disposed of. Perhaps he was genetically weak.

Draco didn't stop; he continued gasping for air as tears fell from his eyes steadily.

"Shut him up," the Dark Lord demanded of Bellatrix, who grinned wickedly.

Draco heard a commotion at the doors and looked over at them quickly, watching as Harry and Ron burst through with other Order members behind him.

The last thing that Draco Malfoy heard was his name being shouted by Harry, who was running forward and reaching out toward him with his wand. He watched in horror as everyone who had come to their rescue was struck down by the Death Eaters in the room, his cries increasing sevenfold.

Bellatrix shouted the killing curse and hit Draco directly in the temple, causing him to fall to the floor in an ungraceful heap. His eyes caught on the figures of his friends, crumpled like paper on the floor of the Manor's tea parlour, then emptied forever to match his Hermione's.


End file.
